Pax Romana
by milegre
Summary: After the assasination of Gaius Julius Caesar, Augustus comes to power. In this time of peace, however, a secret war wages between the illegitimate son and the Emperor. What role will a simple slave have in the ending of our tale?
1. The Slave Market

**Author's Notes :**

**This will be a historical fiction. I do want to caution you, however, that this is definitely an alternate universe. I am going to borrow a bit of Roman history and then make it into what I like. So for you history buffs out there, do not be surprised at the differences. Most of them will be intentional. For example, I know that Pompey was killed in Egypt before Julius Caesar ever died. For my story, however, he was not. He lives on. Julia does not die in childbirth. Also, I've taken the liberty of changing a few dates and times. For example, the method of heating the marble in the bottom of a bath with fires underneath didn't come around for a while but I'm borrowing it for my story. I'm also changing a bit of the way they dress to suit my fancy.**

**I guess the short version of all of that would be this. I am merely borrowing a concept and changing a lot of details. Don't be offended to find that your favorite Roman is dead when he should be alive, or vice versa.**

**Finally, this IS still a Phantom fic, just set in AU. I could not call them Christine and Erik, however, because it just ruined the Roman mood. So, I will give you a cheat sheet on names below.**

**Erik - Lucius Julius Caesar**

**Christine - Caelia**

**Madame Giry - Aemila**

**Jules - Aelus**

**Raoul - Marcus**

**The new characters will of course, have their normal names. Julia for example, the daughter of Julius Caesar who married Gnaeus Pompeius Magnus (Pompey). There is a lot of history that goes into these characters, but I won't give it to you now. It'll be worked into the story. Also this is prewritten to a point, so I have plenty more to add.**

** I need you to review, though, and tell me if you're even interested in reading the rest?**

**(Last thought: The beginning is a tiny bit slow to introduce a few major characters. It gets exciting quickly, though!)**

**-M**

**(Okay, REALLY last thought: If there are any out there who really like the Roman culture and would like to help me with some of the historical facts as well as grammar and such, I could use a beta for this story.)**

* * *

The concrete corridor the women filed through was hot and uncomfortable. The rough stone beneath their feet tore at already blistered flesh, and as they each found their place and were ordered to stop, the humiliation deepened. The loud and burly man at one end barked a command to them, causing the group of women to turn and face the windows evenly spaced through the wall opposite them. On the other side a whole host of people stood, staring intently and bickering amongst themselves. The next command filled them all with shame as they were forced to drop the coarse, tunic-like clothing they were wearing. There, before the hungry eyes of Rome, the slaves were put upon display.

Turning about in unison, the women meekly displayed their bodies and were then ushered out of the corridor so that the process could repeat itself again with men and children. The women were given a short reprieve, and were then brought out into the blistering summer heat once more. There they stood, shifting from one foot to the other at the edge of a large and dirty stage. A simple wooden plank was thrust into each of their hands, displaying a number crudely etched into the wood. The bidding would begin within moments, and the nervous tension that filled them all was tangible. It caused nerves to be frayed and patience to be in short supply. An unintentional stumble escalated into a fray that the guards had to separate, and numbers were exchanged - bumping the frightened young girl near the middle to the next to last position. She nearly dropped the plankard that was thrust into her hands, and her legs trembled so violently from fear that she could hardly follow after the stern man who had ordered her to the new position. Once there, she began what would seem to be the longest wait of her life. Waiting to see who would become her new Master.

* * *

"The gods will look favorably upon your request," a rather round man sputtered nervously in the direction of the shadow looming before him. Despite the noon sun that shone so brightly outside, and even illuminated most of the villa, the Masters' chambers always seemed so dark. No windows allowed light within and he kept only the absolutely necessary candles and lamps lit. In response to his statement, the round man know as Aelus only received a scoff.

"It's the acquisition of a slave, Aelus, really. I do not think your petty gods care at all."

Still trembling, the man nodded and bowed until he found himself in the hall. The heavy door closed with a slam and he straightened, taking a deep breath of relief. A brunette passed him in the hall with a basket upon her hip.

"In a bad mood today, 'eh?" She teased, pulling a ripe apple from her basket to toss toward the older man. He was calmed by her company and turned to stroll along with her. He did not understand why the Master insisted upon purchasing women intended to be sold as pleasure slaves to fill his household. A more plain and inexpensive woman could easily cook his meals and save a lot of money. It was not as though the shadowed man ever seen the ladies anyway. As far as Aelus could tell, the only time Lucius Julius ever left his room was when the Emperor himself sent for him.

Aelus could feel someone staring at him, and realized he had lost himself to his thoughts.

"Ah, no different than normal." He smiled to the young woman, and continued on his way with an apple in hand. "No different than usual..

* * *

Scarcely an hour had passed and yet Caelia felt as though she had been standing in that dusty lot for half of her lifetime. After a silent wait the line finally began to move, and if she stood upon tiptoe she could see the women being paraded about upon the stage. At the call of the auctioneer the bidding would start and a rush of voices would follow. How the poor man behind the podium could interpret a single word they uttered was beyond the pitiful girl in the back. Eventually, however, a price would be named and each girl would be taken off of the stage with tears in her eyes to face her new fate.

By the time Caelia was near to approaching the stage the crowd had dwindled somewhat and the roar of the bidding was not quite as loud. Nothing could prepare her for the utter terror she felt, however, as the comfort of the bodies about her was taken away and she was suddenly thrust into the limelight. All eyes turned to her as she attempted to cover herself as much as she could manage with her arms. The guard standing by her side nudged her roughly in the ribs with the end of his whip and she straightened only marginally.

"Too timid," she could hear the voices state.

"Too skinny,"

"Not enough up top," and so on until her face burned with shame.

When the crowd seemed to take little interest in the slave, the auctioneer intervened. He made a marginal profit off of each successful sale, and the higher the bidding the higher his portion. It would not do to let any girl go for so low.

"This one, gentleman, is apparently quite the little songbird."

Another rough nudge, nearly causing Caelia to fall upon the dusted floor, and she was thrust even more into their attentions. She glanced nervously toward the auctioneer, who had only a look of urgency upon his face.

"Sing!" He commanded, and Caelia opened her mouth to obey.

"Recordor mihi , recordor mihi..."

The notes were unsteady and quiet at first, causing some of the audience to laugh aloud. A bit of pride crept in amongst the horror and humiliation and Caelia burned at their rejection. She straightened, drawing her shoulders back to permit a better sound. Unaware of the beauty this transfused her once huddling figure with, she lifted her chin proudly and began to sing more fully.

Immediately the voices began to swarm in upon her, threatening to swallow her whole.

"Ten denarii!" One man yelled, only to be immediately trumped by another. Caelia hesitated in her song, but the man at her side urged her on.

"Sing, pretty bird. They are paying for your song." Somehow his words felt like an insult, but she had little time to consider such as he ordered her into different positions to display her body to the crowd - forcing her to sing all the while.

Although it seemed to stretch out forever, the moment was quickly over. Several hundred denarii, a rather low price compared to what some of the more physically appealing ladies had fetched, and she was taken away. The man whom collected her at the coin table was older and seemed entirely disinterested in her. He simply paid his debt and instructed that she follow. Caelia did so.

* * *

Traveling to the Bay of Naples took only a full day and night, and Caelia soon found herself on the threshold of a glorious villa. It was positioned in the most prime location on the west side of the cliff, affording a wonderful view of the sunset over the waters. The most unusual aspect to the architecture was the heavy porticullis suspended in the gateway. Caelia wondered with a shudder why a villa would need such fortification. She had little time to think about this, or about the gardens she passed or the magnificence of the hall she was led into. Instead she was ushered along quickly through the grand estate, where eventually she was met with an elderly woman.

"What've you brought me today, eh Aelus?" the old woman asked with little mirth, wiping her hands upon her apron.

"Prepare her," was all the man said with a smirk. He disappeared, leaving Caelia alone with the intimidating woman.

"Well, do you have a tongue?" She snapped after some time, turning to walk away. Caelia assumed she should follow and trotted along behind.

"Y-yes," she managed softly.

As if sensing the tension in the young girl, she turned with a sigh.

"I am Aemila, and if you are to survive here you will have to gather some courage about you. Really, it's not that bad. You will scarcely see Master Julius, and as long as you keep up with your chores you will do fine. Now come, surely you're starving?"

Comforted by the maternal tone the elderly woman took, Caelia nodded quickly and managed a squeak of a question.

"The man who brought me here, you called him something different. He did not.. what I mean to say is.. he does not..."

"No, my dear. He is merely a servant. The personal servant, actually, of Master Julius. You will meet your new owner shortly. Come, we have not much time. We must fill your belly and then give you a bath. You smell like a slave market!"

The older woman cackled with laughter at a joke Caelia did not get, and led the younger woman to a meal unlike any she had tasted in weeks.


	2. The Two

**Thank you for the reviews! Please ignore any typos or errors as I am still trying to establish a beta relationship for this story. For those who were interested, however, I didn't want you to have to wait much longer for an update. Things pick up a bit in the next chapter, so hang in there!**

**Oh, and I just want to clarify a point. The naming system in ancient rome was strange. So while I will sometimes refer to Lucius as Julius, it's only because praenom (first names) were not commonly used. Lucius is NOT the Julius Caesar we all think of. That one was in fact GAIUS Julius Caesar. For simplicity sake, let's all just pretend Julius Caesar is the last name (even though in fact it is really a complex naming system regarding gens and all of the like).**

**I'm not sure if there was any confusion but different scenarios call for me to use his more formal or intimate name and I didn't want you guys to be confused. When I do flashbacks to his father, I will be careful to use full names so there is no confusion.**

**-M**

* * *

A soft rap interrupted his reverie, and Lucius looked up. Shadowing the doorway was the only male servant he had ever trusted, and even then the man was kept at a safe proximity.

"Yes?"

"She has arrived and will be prepared to be presented to you shortly. Will the venue be the same as usual?" Aelus asked nervously. Lucius considered this. It was a tradition in his household that when a new slave was added to the ranks, he would make a personal introduction very soon upon their arrival. Alone with the slave, he would grill them with questions until they quaked in his presence and then he would establish the two most important rules of his household. They would never, under any circumstances, enter his chambers uninvited. And they would never look into his face. This tactic of fear had worked quite well thus far, and his household functioned perfectly detached from his presence.

"Send her to the library."

Aelus was gone in a blink, and once his privacy was secured Lucius reached for his hooded cloak and then moved silently through the hidden passages toward the library. The villa had been his design, although many had been fashioned after it. Tunnels riddled the structure so that he could navigate his way throughout his home without ever coming into contact with the servants who lived within.

The library was dimly lit and the draperies were drawn. Aelus was perceptive and would have to receive a bonus for his thoughtfulness. Lucius entered so quietly that the poor girl fidgeting upon the cool stone of the entryway did not as much as look up. He allowed himself a moment to watch her. She was rather pretty, with soft features that lacked the angular attribute found in most Romans. Her skin was a darker olive, and the dark curls that fell about her shoulders (obviously still damp) were attractive as well. Aemila had outfitted her in an understated shift that fell off of her shoulders, exposing the delicacy of her throat and clavicle. Yes, lovely indeed.

"Stand," he spoke softly, and the poor creature jumped as though a clap of thunder had resounded. Her gaze quickly searched the room for the source of the voice but she could find only darkness.

"I do not repeat myself," the voice came again. Caelia found herself mesmerized by the tone. It was so smooth and enthralling a voice that it seemed other-worldly. She managed to obey this time, lowering her gaze to her toes.

Lucius watched as the girl responded to his voice, though it dismayed him that she seemed to have little spirit. Watching the pawns in his household was beginning to bore him. He would dictate their every move from the shadows, from what color a specific girl was to wear to how another should fashion her hair. In his boredom it was like a giant ant farm - toys that were his to manipulate. The mundane and expected were beginning to lose their appeal. It seemed that this wench would be no different, falling easily into the game he had crafted.

"Lift your chin. I care to see more than the top of your head. Spread your feet a bit. Yes, good. Now square your shoulders."

A few simple instructions and the girl had improved posture. He could see the length of her dark legs from beneath the shift, and they were shapely and appeared smooth. Lucius rarely touched any of his slaves, and surrounding himself with only the most beautiful women was a sort of self-inflicted punishment. Even now his fingers curled against the desire that coursed through him. He longed to brush his fingers along her cheek and see if she was as soft as she appeared, or to bury his nose in those curls and inhale the fragrance of rose that Aemila always washed the girls in initially. Instead he continued with the initiation.

"Your name."

"Ca..." the girl began, and her voice faltered. "Caelia."

"Age."

"Seventeen."

"Are you pure?"

"I.. I'm sorry?" She stuttered, taken aback by the question.

"Have you been penetrated by a man," Lucius replied crudely. It had the desired effect and the modified posture returned to the fearful slouch. Caelia cowered as if realizing her fate.

"No!" She replied quickly, even as her slender arms crossed in front of her.

"I did not order you to move," he retorted harshly, and as Caelia attempted to right herself again he could see the tears already glistening in her eyes. This one was easier than most. Perhaps he'd return to his book sooner than he had imagined.

"Your father and mother sold you for profit?" The voice was mocking and seemed to come from a different place in the room each time it sounded. His words seemed to strike a chord in the young woman and her eyes flashed.

"They would never!" Caelia spat.

Lucius laughed, the sound frightening as it filled the library.

"Then tell me how you came to be cowering in my library?"

"They were killed. When the army laid siege to my town, they were murdered. Myself and all of my sisters were captured."

The girl had a sweet voice and though sadness laced her words Lucius found himself enjoying hearing her speak.

"Ah, welcome to Rome then, girl. The land of greed, where enough is never enough and the highest denarii will earn anyone a place between your thighs."

If he had been attempting to break her, he succeeded with his words. Silent tears began to streak along her cheeks, and Lucius was at last satisfied.

"There are many rules you will discover in this household. I leave those to the others who will educate you. These, slave, are **_my_** rules. You will never enter my chambers unless I bring you to them. Do you understand?"

The girl nodded mutely, and could scarcely see through her tears as a large hulking figure in all black stepped from the shadows before her. Lucius stood still, waiting for the inevitable. Caelia trembled and sniffled for a long moment, and eventually brought her gaze up to the figure before him. All that she could tell was that he had a broad stature and was tall. A hood concealed his face and as she looked within, she thought she saw a flash of white. Before she could decide what it might be a blow sent her to the floor. The beast before her had backhanded her, and now she lay sobbing on the floor. Her hand pressed to the offended flesh, and she wept an apology as he crouched over her.

A tiny pang of regret filled Lucius, but he quickly brushed it away. This was the first and last time he would strike the girl. Slaves, especially women, were a lot like a pup. A show of force was necessary in the beginning to establish dominance. They were loathe to forget the lesson learned, and Lucius did not make a habit of hitting women. Only this first time was necessary.

"Forgive me!" she huffed through her tears. Lucius ignored her and instead reached for her chin. With gloved hand he turned her face toward him.

"The second rule, girl, is that you will never look at my face. Do you understand?"

Caelia nodded empathetically. Lucius was satisfied with this and turned to leave. Before he could disappear into the shadows, Caelia surprised them both by calling out.

"Who are you?" she asked, longing for a name. She did not even know to whom she belonged.

"Master," was the cryptic reply she received before he melded into the shadows.

* * *

The entire villa was in an uproar. Nearly two weeks had passed since Caelia had been introduced to the shadowed figure who now owned her very life, and she had fallen easily into the routine. The servants were all required to bathe daily, decorating themselves as they pleased with a variety of colorful garments and hair ribbons. At their disposal were countless jars of creams and mixtures for their faces, and the entire process lasted for over an hour. Caelia had soon learned that there were nearly a hundred women serving in this villa - and half as many men. When she had first been ushered into the slave quarters she had felt inadequate and unattractive. Some of the most beautiful women she had ever seen were in this household, and the variety was staggering. Every size and shape, hair color, eye color, ethnicity. In comparison Caelia knew she paled, but she soon found her own little niche and faithfully attended the chores assigned to her daily. They were quite simple tasks at first, no doubt such a new slave would not be trusted of things of high importance. She was to pluck weeds from amongst the flowers in the garden, and provide the same service for the vegetables and fruits. Aemila employed her as a personal aid as well, sending her to fetch this spice or that herb from the pantry as she fretted over the Masters' meal.

Word had come today, however, that a guest would come by evening. Gnaeus Pompeius Magnus would arrive in time for dinner.

"Who is he?" Caelia queried as she sliced apricots and removed their pits. Aemila was strutting about the kitchen in a worried panic.

"... more than a few hours notice for such a feast, why I've never..."

"Aemila!" Caelia called to bring her out of the daze. "Who is he?"

With eyes as round as saucers Aemila paused with a huff to observe the young woman.

"You've not heard of the great Pompey?" Aemila asked incredulously.

Caelia paled. _Pompey._ He was the ruthless warrior who had led the Roman legions as they defeated and destroyed her small town only months before. He had set into motion the awful chain of events which seen her thrust into the slave markets and inevitably led here.

"Why is he coming here?" she managed to squeak out, though Aemila had already returned to her work.

Aemila tsked at her, obviously irritated. "He is the Master's brother in law, of course! Now shoo, Caelia. Really, you're more trouble than help today. Please go to the atrium and fetch two of the boys for me. I'm an old woman and cannot lift these sacks myself. Now go, off with you!"

Caelia mulled over this information as she hurried off to obey. What did it mean that her Master was in fact related to the great Pompey? Who _was_ this man who hid in shadows? Was he a cruel general as well? Why would a man of such influence hide away day in and day out in his dark chambers? The sound of men yelling and laughing brought Caelia back from her reverie and she hesitated behind a giant column to peak out at the group gathered. What Aemila had referred to as "boys" were in fact grown men, and a dozen of them at least. They seemed to be taking a break from whatever labor they were involved in, and while most of them were clothed in simple tunics, a few wore little more than a wrapped loincloth. Caelia would later learn that these were called _subligar_, but for now she could not control the heat that flushed her face at the sight. She had never seen a man quite so near nudity, and all of the men before her were young and strong. Before she could flee however, and insist that Aemila send someone else - one of the young men caught sight of her.


	3. Fetch

**This might seem like it ends in an odd place but what happens next is rather long so this would have been eight pages or so if I hadn't clipped it. I'll update the rest of the dinner later!**

-M

* * *

"Who is that there?" He demanded, sitting upright. The laughter around him died away as all eyes turned to the pillar. Hesitantly a head of dark curls peaked about the width of the massive column and Caelia muttered so quietly that even the closest man could not hear her.

"Aemila requests that..."

"Well, speak up then!" She was interrupted as the man who had initially addressed her stood and walked a bit closer. Caelia could not help but stare at the outline of his torso and the way the muscles in his thighs flexed with each step. Realizing her mistake she flushed deeply and dropped her gaze to the grass betwixt her toes.

"Aemila requests the aide of two men in the kitchens," she finally managed, just loud enough to be understood. By now the handsome man was standing before her, and he tapped her chin lightly to force her face more upwards. A stolen glance revealed a smug expression on his face, as though he had understood her abhorrent fascination with his body.

"You're new, aren't you?" He queried, lifting his fingers to brush along the curve of her shoulder lightly. Caelia trembled noticeably, which earned a roar of laughter and jeering from the other men. This was all quite confusing to Caelia as she really did not see the joke, but she simply nodded in response to the man before her.

"Do not mind them. Tell me your name." He insisted, repeating the path he was tracing from the curve of her shoulder to her elbow with his fingertips. Fear coiled within Caelia so tightly that she could scarcely breathe.

"C-caelia" she stuttered, looking up into the impossibly blue eyes before her.

"I am Marcus," he replied and Caelia attempted to smile in response. "Aemila sent for two of us, did she?"

A nod was the only affirmation he received. He laughed aloud at her skittishness. It had been quite some time since a girl so wary had arrived, and a little fun at her expense could not hurt anyone.

"Then you must choose, my lady.." he replied, mocking her station with her words. Her eyes widened as she glanced over at the huddle of men, obviously amused by this as well.

"I.. really, Marucs.. " she breathed, catching him off-guard. Her voice was so sweet and melodious that he was instantly enthralled with the way his name sounded upon her lips.

"Line up," he ordered those behind him casually and they snickered as they did so. Marcus stepped back to join in the ranks and swept a hand toward has if bidding her to make her selections.

Caelia felt humiliated and as though this was certainly a trap that she was stepping blindly into. The tip of her tongue traced her lips in a nervous gesture, before pearly white teeth captured the bottom and nibbled on it. Her brows furrowed in concentration, and several of the men groaned aloud - though Caelia was not sure why. Her eyes skimmed each face, she forced herself to avoid the scantily clad bodies before her and instead focused on their eyes. The men varied in age from what seemed to be older teens to nearly thirty. Some seemed hard and cruel, while others seemed full of mirth.

To end her own misery, Caelia quickly selected two. The first was Marcus, and the second was a younger man with kind eyes and a nice smile. He introduced himself as Junius, and Caelia quickly darted off in the direction of the kitchens with the two behind her. She could hear the men hooting and laughing behind her, as though some important competition had been lost or won in that moment. Before she realized it the two men she had selected were flanking her sides and strode in silence toward the welcome company of another woman, Aemila. Just as they entered the massive kitchens, however, Marcus turned to wink at her and Caelia again flushed. The entire household seemed taut with sexual tension and in her naivety it frightened Caelia tremendously. She had always heard that the Romans were lewd and decadent, thinking only of physical pleasure at all hours - but she had never expected to have to deal with it in such a personal manner. With a slight inclination of her head, she did not after all wish to anger anyone, she demurely exited the room - leaving the two helpless men with the flustered Aemila. As she trotted away Caelia could already hear the old woman giving the two a tongue lashing for having taken so long to arrive. Caelia heaved a sigh. It would be a long day, indeed.

* * *

Gnaeus Pomeius Magnus arrived in all of the splendor such a decorated soldier deserved. Slaves trembled and quaked in his presence, and as soon as he crossed the threshold of the porticullis the entire household was set to bend to his whim. He allowed his sandals to be taken near the door and his feet washed, even as another lovely woman offered a basin of cool water which he splashed upon his face and washed his hands within. A soft towel was provided by yet another beauty, with which he wiped his face.

The best part of visiting Lucius Julius Caesar was undoubtedly the scenery.

"Thank you, girls.." the older man grinned, to which they all demurely giggled and flashed him brilliant smiles. He dismissed them with a flick of his hand and lifted his gaze toward the man approaching him.

"Ah, Aelus. You look well, as ever. Where is our hidden dragon at tonight, mm?" Pompey called in jest, clapping the servant on the shoulders. Aelus laughed, though it was not entirely at ease, and led the war giant into their home.

"The dining hall is prepared, and Master Julius says he will join you very shortly. Until then he has provided some entertainment." Pompey only grinned in response and followed the servant into the decadent room.

An enormous table was set with lavish foodstuffs, and copious amounts of wine. The lighting was terribly low, but he had come to expect such from his reclusive kin. He settled upon the comfortable cushions and reclined back upon his left elbow. A bubbly girl with blonde hair and an ample bosom knelt to offer him a platter filled with cheese, dates, figs, small pieces of breads and chopped vegetables. Instead of taking what he would like he allowed her to linger there holding the platter as he picked individual pieces from it.

"Cornelia," he murmured pleasantly. "You look well."

The slave blushed and did not respond. Instead their attention was diverted to the end of the hall where several girls arrayed in every color of silk shuffled in. Behind them a few of the male servants began to rap upon drums or pluck at the lyre to create a heady beat. The girls began to dance, and Pompey was so enthralled with their sensuous movements that he did not notice the rustle beside of him as another joined him at the table.

"What would my dear sister think if she could only see your mouth hanging open so. Why, the great Pompey is reduced to drooling!" Lucius teased, even as he reached for his own goblet of wine.

"Must you insist on sneaking up on an old man, brother? Really, you will cause my heart to fail and _then_ where would Julia be?"

The two men laughed, instantly put at ease in the other's presence.

"And besides.. You cannot provide the temptation and then ask a man not to stare. For the sake of the gods, Lucius, I am still a red-blooded man.." Pompey finally motioned for the young girl at his side to leave him, much to the relief of Lucius who did not like to have others so close.

"Ah, but that is not what the public would have one believe. You are apparently a hen-pecked, if not effeminate man who cannot control his emotions over a simple girl." Lucius countered, mirth in his gaze as he sparred verbally with his closest friend.

"Oh, that is where you are wrong, my friend. Julia is not a simple girl. She is the goddess made flesh, I maintain! And the masses can stuff it. I am fascinated by a woman and I am not ashamed to admit it," Pompey replied a bit defensively.

"At any rate, when will you give in and marry you prude? You've had more than one offer, and really this place needs a womans' touch." Effortlessly changing the subject, Pompey again turned to gaze at the dancing girls.

"Never, brother. I would never marry for less than what you have obtained with my precious sister, and we both know that will never be." At that Lucius finally brushed the hood away so that his face could be seen. Pompey was struck again with the great tragedy of it. Gaius Julius Caesar had been a charming and handsome man, able to draw any lady into his bed easily. Through his affair with Servilius he had inadvertently sired what would have been an exact copy of his physical stature. It was not until after Caesar had learned of his Mistress's failed attempt at an abortion and the boys ominous birth that any could realize the damage done. Half of his face was beautiful, with sharp angular features that were so similar to those of his father. The other half was hideously scarred and continually kept hidden beneath a mask. Tonight that mask was white and matched the draping clothing he wore. Pompey sighed.

"Stop pitying yourself and find the one who would," he replied. He did not have to finish the sentence, the two had argued too many times over whether there was a single woman alive who could love him despite his deformities. They had reached an impasse, neither prepared to relent to the other.

"Surely you came for some other reason than to chide my bachelorhood, Pompey. What brings you all the way to my humble villa?"

"Let us put off talk of business until after we've enjoyed this fine meal, shall we?" Pompey deflected the question with ease, and Lucius relented. With his hood replaced, Lucius permitted a swarm of servants to enter - bringing enough food for twenty men. Their plates were heavy with the best delicacies Rome could offer, and Lucius waited for the inevitable. A character quirk that the two had laughed about more than once would certainly follow. Pompey lifted his gaze through the scurrying servants in attempt to choose one. There, nervously helping the dancing women and musicians remove their wares from the room, was a brunette girl with long curls.


	4. The Song

* * *

"Her," he pointed and Lucius followed his gaze. So Pompey had chosen the skittish kitten that had arrived so recently.

"She's frightfully new, Pompey. Would you not enjoy Cornelia or one of the more trained girls?" Lucius attempted to divert the man, old enough to be his father, from the pitiful creature in an odd gesture of compassion. Pompey would not be swayed however and with a nod Lucius assented that she be brought over. Caelia suddenly found herself thrust toward the table, where the massive Pompey himself was staring at her. Eyes widened in fright, she turned in her confusion to leave.

"Come here girl." His voice was brusque and rough, not at all as musical and pleasant as that of the man shrouded in darkness. She obeyed and found herself kneeling beside of the great Pompey. He tugged on one of her curls, watching it spring back into position, tweaked her cheek and brushed her thigh.

"Ah, yes. Lovely. Your duty, little slave, is to feed me. You will sample everything before giving me any. That way, if my dear brother here is trying to kill me, or better yet - that terrible Aemila, you will die first. Do you understand?" Pompey was more than a little amused, and chuckled aloud as horror flashed across the girls features. She nodded, however, and then he resumed his conversation with Lucius.

"I do not know what you do to entertain yourself. How do you keep that mind of yours busy in such a place? You should come to battle with me. We could conquer the world, if you like. And there are lots of lovely strumpets to find in each new place."

Lucius, who was observing the pitiful girl by Pomey's side, could see her tense at his words. If he was not mistaken ( and he was rarely mistaken ) he could see anger etched upon her features. Ah, yes.. Caelia had recently lost her father and mother to such expeditions and it was extremely likely that Pompey had led the invasion.

"Where was your last conquest?" He queried, noticing how the girl struggled not to look at him when she heard his voice. She lifted a roasted snail to her lips and bit off a piece. Her nose curled in distaste and Lucius nearly chuckled at the gesture. The girl was so raw, completely untrained and lacked the quiet grace that all of his servant girls possessed. Perhaps he would have to see to her formal training with the next day.

"Near Turkey," Pompey replied casually. "I don't know if the god-forsaken place even had a name. Heathens, I tell you, the lot of them."

Before the conversation could progress any further, a musical voice offered..

"Cardenia."

Both men turned to look at Caelia, who realized her mistake in speaking and appeared both embarrassed and horrified by her admission. She bowed her head, and murmured apologies.

"What?" Pompey asked, pushing her further. "What did you say?"

"Oh please Master, forgive me. I did not mean to speak.." The girl stuttered, and nearly dropped the snail she was prepared to offer to him.

"I am not your Master, you will address me as Magnus. Perhaps you did not intend to speak but you did, so tell me what it is that you said." He insisted, as he grasped her tiny wrist in his fingers and brought her hand to his lips. He captured the food in his mouth and released her hand, but not before his tongue flickered against the tip of her finger.

Caelia recoiled as though burned and buried her hands betwixt her thighs. Meekly she replied,

"The name of the place, Magnus, was Cardenia. One of them at least."

Lucius watched as Pompey shifted to face the girl a bit more fully, his head canted to the side in a gesture that reflected curiousity.

"How would you know this?"

Without warning anger flashed in the depths of the pretty brown eyes, and Caelia lifted her head to declare.

"I was there when your men butchered my parents and my older brother. Myself and my younger sister were all that survived of our family, and we were... well, I suppose you can imagine the rest for here I am."

The words were sharp and heated, reflecting all of the animosity Caelia must have felt for Pompey since the moment he had arrived. The other servants in the room sucked in their breath at her words. Surely her punishment would be death for speaking in such a manner to Master Lucius' guest!

Silence reigned at the table for a long moment and finally Pompey burst into laughter. Riotous laughter that caused him to lay back in the cushions and hold his hands to his stomach. Caelia glanced at him with uncertainty and then broke the second rule. She looked to her Master for guidance, unintentionally raising her gaze to his. His eyes were all that she could see within the hood of the cloak, but they glowed at her with an amber hue that seemed unearthly. Her breath caught in her throat and she could not force herself to look away. How long she stared at him she could not say, but Pompey had his fill of laughter at her audacity and sat up - staring between the two and their locked gazes. He had never seen Lucius as much as acknowledge a girl such as this, and he was amazed at the intent stare between the two.

"Is this a game? I am sure I can beat you both," he jested to break the moment and the tension in the air. The slave cleared her throat softly and lowered her voice, but Lucius simply continued to stare at her.

Two rules in his household, only two, and yet the creature before him could not seem to adhere to the second. Her cheek was still lightly bruised from his blow to her upon her first night, and he wondered what it would take to force submission to this from her. More than that, however, he wondered if it was a trait he really wanted her to lose. None of his servants ever made eye contact with him. It was true that he scarcely came in contact with any of them, but when he did the strictly enforced rules ensured that they did not see his face. Only with Pompey, Julia, and a few others was he comfortable without his hood. Her curious stare had awakened in him the need to feel _normal_. The desire to be, just as every other man, simply human.

Lucius was drawn from his reverie by Pompey's voice. He had, apparently, missed some measure of conversation between the girl and his brother-in-law.

"Do you hear that, brother? She sings! Let us hear a song then. Go on now, don't be frightened."

Caelia hesitated at first but a slight nod from the figure beneath the hood coaxed her to obey, and she repeated the simply melody she had sang upon the auction block. Pompey seemed pleased enough with it, and Caelia found it impossible to read the response of her Master. He simply sat, completely unmoving, until she was finished.

"Wonderful. Pretty voice you have," Pompey complimented her freely, the wine in his hand and belly loosening his tongue. Caelia smiled demurely and lowered her gaze. Lucius' sharp voice quickly intoned, though.

"A rough voice. Untrained, raw. Too high in most places and entirely off-key."

Caelia was shocked by his assessment of her. Within a matter of months she had gone from a free woman to a slave, and while fear generally ruled her life now it was difficult to control the anger and frustration she felt at her situation and this man. How dare he say such things about her? Father had taught her to sing when she was but a babe and she had done so faithfully by his side ever since. No one had ever been so critical or condescending to her. She lifted her chin a bit in defiance and pursed her lips, but did not reply.

Again he could sense the anger bubbling beneath the surface, and he longed to provoke it. Lucius continued.

"A rather dull selection, too..."

Pompey shifted a bit upon the cushions. "Oh come, Lucius. Give the girl a break. She's shaking like a leaf and I think she sounded rather pretty. What has you up-in-arms tonight?"

Lucius didn't seem to hear him, and the girl seemed to pay him no heed as she again lifted her gaze to stare into the hood.

"Your voice is dull as well, I should say.." In reality, Lucius had thought her voice marvelous and beautiful. It had a crystal clear quality that appealed to him and he knew that with proper training she could sing like an angel. For now, however, he longed to see her anger manifest.

Pompey could not understand what had gotten into Lucius. He was usually so even-tempered and said little to anyone, even him. He had never seen him bait a person such as this, but it was his servant and his home and he decided to focus more upon the morsels of food the girl was reluctantly tasting and offering, than the tension building between Master and slave.

When she had finally had enough of his harsh words, Caelia retaliated.

"And what would a recluse who never comes out of his bedchambers know about music, Master?"

Before Pompey could say a word, Lucius retorted.

"Much more than the daughter of a pitiful bard who could scarcely make enough money to feed his family, I dare say."

"How dare you speak of my father, you beast! You did not know him. You do not know anything. All you know is opulence and peace. You've no idea what it's like to live as a real person in the real world. Look at this place," she cried, exasperated. Her hands lifted to gesture about them.

"A haven of silk and mosaics and everything beautiful, but you lock yourself away and do not even enjoy it. What can you know of life, Master, besides..." looking about her quickly for an example, she picked up one of the cooked snails and waved it about for emphasis.

"Slimy creatures for a feast!"

Pompey did not know whether to laugh in the face of her accusations, or worry for her fate. No one had ever, in his presence, spoken to Lucius so.

Tense silence reigned for a full moment, and then Lucius responded with a gesture that shocked Pompey. He leaned forward against the table and lifted his hands to brush the hood from his face. Surprise registered upon Caelias own as she stared openly at him, taking in both his handsome features and the odd mask that covered him.

She felt deflated, her anger spent, and she had no witty words with which to reply.

"I suggest, **_slave_, **you think upon your words before you speak. You have no idea what you are saying, implying, or daring. I think my guest is finished with your services. If you value your life, you will take that _slimy creature_ and be out of that door within a breath." Lucius sounded calm, belying the fact that he had in fact been in control the entire time. He had longed to see her spirit rise to the surface, replacing some of the trembling and fear that she exuded. He had succeeded, but not before she pierced him with her words. He had never revealed himself like that to a servant, but he wanted her to read his expression as he rejected her presence. He wanted to frighten her. Lucius Julius was not quite sure what he wanted.

Caelia only stared for a moment, unable to tear her eyes away. He was so..._handsome._ And yet devilish and terrifying. Finally she stood and ran from the room, disappearing into the hall.

Pompey coughed.

"Well, brother.. Was that the entertainment you had promised?"


	5. A Red Ribbon

**Several notes for this chapter. First, please be patient with grammar and spelling in this one. I tried to do a once-over, but I had to type it out on Wordpad (which of course has no spellcheck) and so it's probably rather raw. Also, we are entering the part of the story where I will twist a lot of factual events and facts about the Roman world to suit my fancy. Please indulge me, remember that this is AU based on the Roman Empire.**

**I suppose that's it for now. Please continue to review!**

**-M**

* * *

The passion of his debate with his firey new slave had passed, as had the interest in the food before him. He had allowed himself the pleasure of welcomed company in his brother-in-law, Gnaeus Pompeius Magnus. Now, however, as he twirled the wine about in his exquisite chalice, Lucius knew that it was not for the company that Pompey had traveled all the way out to the Bay of Naples to dine with him.

After all of the slaves had been dismissed, Lucius questioned gravely.

"What brings you to my home, Gnaeus?"

The mirth that had lingered in his friends gaze dissipated at his words and Pompey peered thoughtfully into his own glass for a long moment. He swirled its contents, and then downed them in a single gulp. He cleared his throat lightly and turned to face Lucius.

"The Emperor," he muttered lightly.

Lucius felt a stab if disgust twist within his gut, though he maintained the facade of calm in outward appearance. _Octavius._ Though he was his cousin, Lucius despised Octavius with as much passion as one mortal could contain. The man was cruel, vindictive, witless, and did not deserve to be heir to Julius Caesar! Perhaps it was the latter that caused the greatest strife within his mind.

----

_**Age 8**_

_"Father, why can I not accompany you back to Rome?" A young Lucius, scarcely eight years old, had asked his father._

_The great Julius Caesar had sighed at this, his head dropping a bit as he considered his reply._

_"Because others would not see what I see when I look at you," he replied with a sad smile. _

_"What do you see, Father?"_

_"A bright, compassionate, talented young man with the potential to do great things for the world..." his father had replied earnestly._

_"What would they see, Father? The people?" Lucius asked, his earnest gaze fastened steadfastly upon his father._

_Julius had sighed, even as he reached to ruffle the dark hair crowning his son's head. "Your mask, son.."_

_---_

_**Age 12**_

_"I wanted to tell you this myself, son.. it doesn't seem fair that you would have to overhear it. I will adopt your cousin, Gaius Octavius. His mother, Atia, is my niece."_

_"Adopt? Why would you need to do that, Father?"_

_Though reluctant, the horrible truth of his life had been revealed to Lucius that day._

_"Your mother and I were not married when you were born, Lucius..."_

_The young boy's eyes had clouded with anger at mere mention of his 'mother' and Julius reached to pat his shoulder in a calming gesture so that he could continue._

_"She was only a Mistress. Though you are certainly of my blood and the son of my heart, things are different in the political realm. Only a handful of people know about you at all, my son. I must have an heir to follow after me when I die.." Julius had managed to say, his voice tinged with regret._

_The young Lucius, though he had been thoroughly educated in Roman politics, could not understand the depth of his father's rejection._

_"But you have an heir, Father.. I will look after your estate. I can take care of things.."_

_With moist eyes Julius had regarded Lucius, and with a sad smile patted his cheek._

_"No doubt you would, my son, but I am afraid the world would not be able to look beyond your face to see the beauty and brilliance within you.."_

----

An anger and hatred had been building within Lucius since that very day, and each time he had actually met Octavius (not much older than he) he had found his dislike had only grown. He mooned over Julius like a love-sick puppy, never giving him privacy with his father. When he was alone he acted with cruelty towards all of the slaves and others about him, as though his adoption were something to be displayed and bragged upon. Since he had become Emperor of the entire Roman world, it seemed that this part of Octavius' personality was allowed to run rampant. He was overly zealous and cruel, showing no clemency where Julius Caesar would have undoubtedly acted with mercy.

Pompey's voice brought him back to present.

"He and Brutus seem to think that Crassus is becoming more of a nuisance than he is worth.." he was muttering, obviously displeased at having been chosen as a mouthpiece for this message.

Lucius snorted. "Old Crassus? The man is so old, what harm could he do?"

Pompey shot Lucius a glare, as the younger man knew that Crassus was scarcely a decade older than Pompey.

"With his funds, and the way he chooses to use them - quite a bit, it seems.."

Silence followed, thoughtful on both ends. Finally Pompey concluded.

"That is all I know. This is a summons, of sort. They want you in Rome before the Ides of March."

---

Only several hours had passed since Pompey had left the great villa, and already the entire household seemed to feel a great sense of relief. The Master was more hidden than usual, if that were possible, and laughter filled the halls as they all went about their work. Caelia busied herself with the baths. Though they were not often used, the linens were changed and washed almost daily - assuring that should the Master _ever_ decide to venture into the heated waters only the most fresh of towels would be available to dry his flesh. An armload of said towels were perched precariously within her arms and she could scarcely see over them, but she hummed as she went along. The late-night talk with Marcus had done a great deal of good for her spirit.

Unexpectedly, a shrill noise emitted behind her and just as Caelia turned to see what had caused it, fingers prodded into each of her sides causing her to squeal and toss the towels into the air. They fell aimlessly about, covering both herself and her attacker. As she pulled the cloth away from her face she found a very amused Marcus doing the same.

"You'll get me into trouble!" she scolded, immediately bending to pick up the towels. Though her words were harsh, a smile teased at the corner of her lips and humor filled her gaze. Marcus crouched down to help her gather her load. He laughed lightly.

"With who, may I ask? The old lady is busy cooking, and the Master won't be seen again for weeks." He teased, folding the towels again to place them upon the stack.

Caelia merely pursed her lips at his logic, glancing up at him. A stray curl fell into her gaze and without thought he brushed it away. The gesture, as simple as it may have been, caused her breath to catch in her throat and a strange warmth to stir within her belly. Caelia did not know how to respond so she just smiled sheepishly and dipped her head again to finish her task.

"Obviously not you, Marcus. It seems that I would accomplish nothing in my time here if you made that decision!"

Marcus laughed again, and Caelia felt a strong bond of companionship with the handsome man. In such a large estate with so many strangers, it felt wonderful to finally feel welcome with someone. Marcus made this new place feel somewhat like a home for her, and she appreciated him for that so very much.

When the towels were properly stacked and Caelia once again held them within her arms, she dipped her head lightly toward him and turned to walk away.

"Caelia," he called after her, causing her to hesitate.

"Have lunch with me. In the atrium.."

Caelia hesitated, but then nodded. It would be very pleasant to share a meal with someone other than the gossipping women she was confined to share quarters with.

"I would like that very much, Marcus..." her lyrical voice replied, and then she disappeared around the corner with the towels, leaving Marcus to simply smile after her.

----

Lucius was brooding, and he knew as much. As childish as it may be, he simply could not displace the anger and resentment that filled him at thought of Octavius, now known as _Augustus._ And to think that the arrogant fool had beckoned him to Rome as though he were a puppet, dancing on their strings! Surely Octavius knew that Lucius did not travel in the open, and he did not take to crowds. The trip to Rome would be nothing but uncomfortable, and that was not even thinking of the reason behind it. Surely they did not expect him to murder one of his father's best friends! Or perhaps the absurity of it all was the very explanation. The feelings between he and Octavius were mutual, and since Octavius had instituted the _Pax Romana_ he was probably bored. For a lack of bloodshed and sport, he could call in his deformed cousin to shed the blood of a trusted friend. What could be more amusing?

With a growl Lucius upset the contents of his desk, one long arm sweeping all of the items therein onto the floor with a crash. Within moments a knock resounded at the door and a timid Aelus called.

"Master?"

Another growl was the only answer the terrified slave received, and he left his Master alone. No message was of that much importance!

---

With only five minutes until lunch would be available Caelia found herself hiding in her quarters, pacing. Why was she nervous about sharing a meal with a friend? Was it simply because he was a man, or because he was so.._handsome?_ The thought exasperated Caelia and she grumbled aloud. She smoothed her hands over the cerulean tunic she had chosen, cinched the belt about her waist a bit tighter and then stepped out into the halls. As she turned to approach the kitchens, assuming she should fetch her food and join Marcus, a voice called to her.

"Caelia!"

She turned quickly, finding herself peering directly into the vibrant blue of Marcus' eyes. He smiled, a disarming smile, and swept his hand towards the atrium.

"I've already gotten our food."

She only smiled, and then followed after him. He began to talk in an animated fashion, going over the events of the day since they had last met - asking polite questions about her well-being and accomplishments. Only once they had settled within the plush grass did Caelia begin to relax, and pick at her food with a quiet "Thank you.."

"Is something bothering you, Caelia..?" Marcus asked, worry etched in his handsome features.

Caelia stared at him openly for a moment, and then shook her head, meekly.

"Out with it. Please, I do not want to see you retreat into yourself like that around me. Be open. I want to know who you are, Caelia.."

"It's just that.. I don't understand, Marcus, why you are showing me so much attention? I am the least among the other women here. I am not the most beautiful, or talented, or anything really.." Caelia said with a sigh.

Marcus hesitated long enough that Caelia finally looked up at him. He was smiling, rather fondly.

"You're special, Caelia. Do not let anyone else tell you otherwise. I like the way you make me feel.."

Caelia only blushed at this, and they finished their food in silence. Before long they were both reclined in the grass staring upwards at the clouds, making out shapes within them. Both were oblivious to the other slaves, male and female, passing by with snide comments and the beginning of gossip. Before the hour was over the entire household would have the two as lovers, but for now they were simply content in the company of the other.

Hours later, after all of the work within the villa had been completed and the slaves were ready to retire - this scene would be repeated again - only now they reclined against the rocks near the shore - staring upwards at the stars instead.

"I used to dream, as a little girl, that I could touch the stars. My papa would sing a song about them, about capturing one and bringing it down for me.." Caelia smiled sadly.

"The brightest star, up in the sky - will prove to us, a lullaby.. for I will reach, and bring one down.. to give to you..." Marcus began to sing, his low voice imperfect yet terribly indearing. Caelia gasped in surprise, turning aside to face him. Due to the lack of space upon their perch, this inadvertently caused her to move closer to him. She did not notice, but he certainly did. His words trailed off and he found himself staring at the lips of this sweet creature that had come into his life. Before Caelia he had been more boisterous, chasing after many of the women in his houshold and caring for none. Now, however, he found himself desiring to be a better person. He found himself longing to be the type of man that she could respect and perhaps even care for some day.

"You know it!" She breathed, and the way her brilliant eyes shone Marcus decided that he would do anything to make her happy.

He could only smile, words stolen from his lips as he gazed at her, bathed in the surreal moonlight. After a moment Caelia seemed to sense his thoughts, and her gaze dropped to his lips. It lingered there, then returned to his eyes. With nervousness she muttered his name so softly the wind nearly carried the melody from his ears, and he lifted his hand to lightly stroke his thumb along the line of her jaw.

"Caelia," he replied. To his surprise, and delight, the beauty before him allowed her eyes to drift shut and her lips parted lightly - as though in offering. He hesitated only a moment, etching the image of her like this within his mind, and then he dipped his head to taste the ambrosia that was her kiss.

It was gentle and slow, and he could feel her apprehension. The fingers that were upon her cheek diverted into the mass of hair that crowned her head, tangling within the unruly curls. His tongue stroked her lower lip, entreating entrance and with a soft mew she permitted him to deepen the kiss.

After a long moment of the passionate embrace, the two parted. Her cheeks were flushed and her heart racing, her cheeks tinged with blush.

"Forgive me," she muttered hastily.

Marcus laughed. This only served to heighten her humiliation and she turned to leave, attempting to scramble off of the rocks as quickly as she could.

"Caelia!" He called after her, dismounting the stones with much more ease. He caught up with her without struggle, and grasped her shoulder to spin her about. He found unshed tears in her eyes. The poor girl looked absolutely mortified.

Again he laughed lightly, though his fingers brushed her chin. She shivered, and it did not go unnoticed by Marcus, but he continued - nudging her chin upwards so that she would look at him.

"The most precious kiss I have ever had, and the angel who gave it to me apologized. I was simply amazined, sweet Caelia, at your tenderness of heart."

"You do not think me a fool?" She murmured, her voice tinged with pout.

"Of course not," he assured her. He longed to loop his arm about her waist and press her sweet flesh against his own, to conquer her mouth in a more demanding kiss and woo her to his bed. The same had worked on many women before her, and though he desired to know her in that way, he simply found he could not press such an issue with Caelia. It seemed as though something more substantial was being built between them. He settled for another soft kiss, groaning in surprise when he felt her small hands lift to his chest. The sound, apparently, startled her as well and she pulled away. Her lips were swollen from their kiss and he could not stop gazing at her.

"I should go, Marcus.. I am sure I will be.. I mean.. yes. Goodnight," she muttered hastily and scurried away from him. Marcus would have worried that he had offended her, but just before she was out of eyesight she hesitated. Turning, she cast a smile over her shoulder to him that would melt the hearts of the gods, and then did disappear within the villa.

Marcus could do nothing but grin after her.

_What a peculiar girl._

---

The marketplace was busy and crowded. Vendors thrust their wares out, loudly appealing to the passerby to purchase from them. Slaves bantered and argued amongst themselves, and noise was the rule rather than the exception. Marcus was rather oblivious to the discomforts, however, as his mind was upon a particular slave with chocolate curls and dark eyes. He had a list clutched within his hand and half of the necessary items gathered into his basket. This job was typically reserved for the women, but as several rather heavy items had to be retrieved today he had been volunteered to go. A few extra coins jingled with the rest, however, a tiny portion of his own monies. He had been saving these for as long as he could recall, hoping to buy his freedom someday. On such an occasion, however, he had thought to bring a bit along. perhaps he would see something of some signficance that he could purchase for Caelia.

As he paused at a stand displaying a variety of satin ribbons in many colors, the remarks of two men huddled in the shadows nearby caught his ear.

"...Lucius Julius..."

He pretended to focus all the more intently upon the ribbon, even remarking to the keeper of the stall upon the color of one.

" Crassus has sent...yes! The Emperor.."

It was too difficult to make out what the men were saying, but Marcus could sense that something was terribly wrong. He chose a vibrant red ribbon that would indeed look marvelous within Caelia's hair. He turned it against the sunlight, and allowed it to filter through his fingers and fall to the ground. The wind gave chase and it fluttered several feet closer towards the men, yet still out of range to be suspected. He crouched to pick it up, carefully removing the dust from it.

"..assasinate him! He sent a man to poison Lucius Julius before he had the chance..."

Marcus felt as though his heart had stopped. Though Rome was certainly full of intrigue and violence, it had never fallen so terribly close to home as this. Though he was near a panic inwardly, he calmly paid for the ribbon and hid it away within his tunic. Forsaking the rest of the items on his list, he turned towards home.


	6. Demands

Marcus Licinius Crassus - Died in 53bc after the battle of Carrhae

Julius assassinated in 44bc

**I am sorry for the delay. Sometimes the real world just swallows me whole.**

**This chapter is for a very special reviewer who asked very nicely for an update. You know who you are!**

**Finally, a few historical notes. In case you hadn't noticed yet, Crassus actually dies before Caesar in history. Crassus dies in 53bc after the battle of Carrhae. Caesar isn't assassinated until 44bc. Also, though Crassus lent a great deal of money to Caesar and they did serve on the first Triumvirate together (along with Pompey) we don't really have anything that leads us to believe they were great friends. That relationship is entirely fictional in my story.**

**Continue to review and let me know what you think! **

**-M**

---

Marcus was not, by nature, a timid man. He was a bit of a leader with the servants in the villa, and had encountered the Master on more than one occasion with little fear. Though he certainly found his reclusive manner to be more than a bit peculiar, he generally felt more pity for him than fear. He did, of course, realize that Lucius Julius was a dangerous man. It was rumored that he even acted as an assassin upon more than one occasion, but in his dealings with the villa and it's inhabitants he had always been fair - if not a bit aloof. He was little more than a wraith, directing the order of things with letters and whispered suggestions. He never allowed himself to enjoy the pleasures he filled his home with. The laughter of women, the decadent food, the luxuriant baths. Marcus felt very sorry that such a wealthy man would not be able to appreciate it.

None of those thoughts were on his mind, however, as he approached the forbidden doorway. The entrance to the library. He knew that his presence would not be welcomed, but the words that he had overheard in the marketplace could only be repeated to the Master. Aelus had pressed him for nearly an hour, delaying it's deliverance enough already. Once the older man had realized he could not get Marcus to relent, he had allowed him to pass and now Marcus stood rapping at the doorway.

The sounds echoed throughout the seldom-used hall, and were followed by silence.

Impatiently, Marcus repeated the gesture.

After several attempts, a gruff sound of displeasure was heard from the other side of the door.

"You _know_ that I do not welcome your company. Send Aelus!"

Marcus jumped, the bellow having caught him off guard.

"Master, please.." he entreated in the calmest voice he could find. "It is vital and I do not think.."

"I do not _think_ you understand me, slave. You... are... not... welcome!"

A shiver ran the length of Marcus' spine and he felt as though someone were staring at him from behind. With a frown he looked over his shoulder, finding only the empty hall and a tapestry swaying in the breeze. He steeled himself to try again.

"Master, it doesn't please me to speak of your personal matters so openly. If you insist, though, I suppose I must. When I was in the market today I overheard several men boasting amongst themselves. They were saying that Crassus has apparently sent someone to assassinate you! They said that.."

Before he could continue the door opened of it's own volition, and Marcus peered into the darkness. No natural light was permitted in this conclave, and only a single flame burned to illuminate it's contents. It was a difficult adjustment to make so quickly, but Marcus knew that this was a silent beckon. He stepped inside, starting when the door swung closed behind him.

"Continue.." his Master demanded, and Marcus obeyed without hesitation.

"Something about poison. I cannot be sure of all of it, Master, it was difficult to hear everything and remain undetected. I am quite sure that I heard all that I have reported correctly, however, and am deeply sorry that I could not learn more."

"Enough groveling," came a curt, short-tempered reply. Marcus searched the room for the source of the voice, but could not find it.

Silence fell, and seemed to last forever. Marcus shifted his weight from foot to foot, having little more to say. The tension was palpable, and made it feel difficult to take a full breath in the stifling room.

"You have done well," Lucius finally stated, though it seemed like an afterthought. The tone in his voice was one of thoughtfulness, as well as supressed anger. "You may go. Send Aelus to me. Speak of this to no one, and you will have your reward. Think on it, and in a fortnight you may ask it of me."

Marcus was shocked by the offer, and could hardly move for a moment. When he heard the impatient sigh, however, he turned quickly to return to the world of garish light. It nearly blinded him, and he was still rubbing his eyes when he found Aelus - lingering closer than necessary to the Master's quarters.

"He has summoned you," he murmured simply to the older man, and then continued on his way. The great Lucius Julius Caesar was going to present him with an award, of his own choosing nonetheless. What in the world should he ask for?

Marcus returned to his normal daily duties as he mulled the thought.

* * *

Oblivious to all of the drama unfolding around her, Caelia also continued her typical chores. It wasn't until well after lunch when the decree swept through the villa like wildfire. Some threat had been issued against their Master and great precautions were to be taken to prevent it. It began in the kitchens, where every last bit of their food had to be destroyed. A dozen servants were sent to the hidden storehouses upon the property to fetch the basic staples, but it was clear that no one would be eating a very exciting fare for some time. Next, every inch of the home had to be swept by servants to ensure no hidden decanter or package of any sort was already within their walls. The security continued for most of the day, all of the slaves working harder than they had in weeks beneath the command of Aelus. When all was secure and Aelus felt confidant that no hidden threat had already penetrated the villa, strict rules were put into place. No one was to leave the villa unless expressly ordered to do so, and doing so would earn an extreme punishment. Paranoia filled the halls, and Caelia passed more than one pair of the girls gossipping freely in the halls about poison, daggers, plots, and politics.

Caelia had little interest in it all. She did not have the appreciation the other slaves did, of being in such a villa with such a Master. She was not born into bondage, and therefore could not appreciate the stroke of luck that landed her here. She missed her father, and her mother. She missed her homeland terribly, and most of all she missed freedom. Her muscles ached and her mind was numb by the time she began to retreat toward her sleeping quarters. She had not seen Marcus all day, but the entire household had been in an uproar. She felt a vague sense of loss at this. His cheerful manner and encouraging words were uplifting, and helped her through each day. Not to mention the curious feeling she felt in her stomach whenever he was around. A flutter, like the tiny wings of a hummingbird.

Caelia was so preoccupied with these thoughts that she nearly squealed when the tapestry upon the wall nearest her seemed to speak.

"_Caelia.."_

* * *

Lucius had spent much of his day planning. He found it both difficult to believe and also terribly likely that Crassus would strike out at him first, especially if he believed Rome was calling him in as an assassin against him. He knew how close both Crassus and Gaius Julius had been, and remembered fondly thinking of him as an uncle. He had been a young teenager before he had ever had the opportunity to meet the wealthy man, and indeed Crassus had been the first friend of his father's to know about Lucius at all. His father had arrived one day with Crassus in tow, and introduced Lucius as his son. He had been terribly proud that day, and even more so as the evening progressed and Crassus seemed impressed with the knowledge and skill Lucius had obtained at such a young age. From that day onwards Crassus visited nearly as frequently as his father, and had always remained one of the few people alive that Lucius felt affectionate toward.

It was difficult to imagine this man, something of a father-figure to him, seeking his very own blood. When one weighed in the uncertainties and cruelties of Roman politics, however, Lucius found himself more convinced that it could be true. Trying to put himself in Crassus' place, he could easily see how the aging man would be fearful. If all this were true, after all, it would be a matter of life or death.

These thoughts had led Lucius in circles. First he would plan to head directly to Rome and deal with the trouble there, and then decide instead to approach Crassus directly. Both options seemed implausible and difficult, and so after many hours of this frustration he was no further than he started.

Years of isolation should have prepared him for this, but tonight he found himself longing for company. Pompey had long since departed and could not be called back. He had no friends in the surrounding area, and conversing with the servants was undesireable. Aelus was too fearful and simpering, Aemilia fancied herself his mother and was too nagging, and all of the young women thought to seduce him and charm their way into his graces. All, perhaps, except the new one. _Caelia._

The name was like a revelation in his mind, it's very syllables seeming to offer peace to his weary soul. He did not allow himself to debate the decision. He would surely talk himself out of it. Instead he donned his cloak quickly, and slipped into the secret corridors that would take him throughout his villa. He found her just before she entered the quarters where she would sleep. Without thinking, he called out to her.

"_Caelia.."_

The poor girl was obviously frightened by his voice, and the exhaustion that had been evident upon her face melded into fear.

Lucius spoke again before he could reconsider.

"The library. Now."

And then he was gone. He did not look back to see if she had followed, he knew she would.

* * *

Lucius had left her alone within the daunting room for several long moments, simply watching her. He could tell that she was quite tired. Her lids were heavy, long lashes splayed against her cheeks beautifully in the firelight. She knelt near the doorway, and tugged impatiently upon the edges of her robe. It was simple enough, and did little to accentuate her figure or beauty - but Lucius found it all very appealing. This picture of innocence beckoned him like nothing had in quite some time. The _perfect_ distraction from all of his other troubles.

"Caelia," he spoke, and his voice sounded rough. Abrasive. She jumped, fear replacing the bored look her gaze had harbored. He reminded himself to be more gentle with her. He cleared his throat as he stepped from the shadows. She straightened her posture a bit, and lowered her gaze again to the floor as he emerged.

"Forgive me, Master.." she said, trembling. He continued to step towards her until he stood just before her, the tips of his sandals nearly brushing her knees. Still she shivered before him, a tremulous motion that was evident in her fingertips and the slight bounce of those tempting curls against her shoulders.

He should speak. Calm her, reassure her. He knew that he should, but curiousity forced him to remain silent. What would she do now? How would she respond?

The same question tortured Caelia, and after several long moments she did the only thing she could imagine to placate him. During her brief tenure at the slaving quarters she had seen many slaves bow at their Masters feet, and even a few of the women pressing their lips there in kisses. Though she had thought it rather barbaric, she found herself doing the very same thing now. She bent at the waist and her curls spilled forward to brush against his ankles. A sharp intake of breath was his only response, and so Caelia continued in her effort to placate him. Sweet lips pursed to press a soft kiss to the top of his foot.

A sound something akin to a hiss was heard above her, and Lucius retreated several steps quickly.

"No, Caelia.." he warned, though his voice almost sounded choked. Caelia straightened, smoothing her small hands over the top of her thighs. Tears of embarrassment burned within her gaze, but she quickly cast it downward in an attempt to hide such weakness. All of the other women within the villa were so composed, and knew exactly what to do. Caelia had no idea, and felt very weak and foolish most of the time. Now was no different, and the fear she felt for this man only compounded the emotions. Surely he was disgusted with her presence and ready to be rid of her.

Lucius, however, was stunned to silence. Apart from his precious sister Julia, he had _never_ received an intentional kiss from a female. It had been the last thing he had expected from Caelia. Even now as he attempted to clear his mind so that he could speak with the slave, he could not push the sensations from her mind. The bounty of curls had stroked his skin in such a light caress, almost a tickle, but it had felt as fine as silk and was warm where it had lain against her shoulder. And then those lips, warm and moist, had brushed against his flesh in a way that had burned him. He could still feel their warmth, and found himself longing for more.

"_Stop!" _He commanded himself.

"How are you adjusting to your new life?" He asked, his voice a bit mechanical. Forced.

The girl seemed relieved that he had finally spoke, and replied in that soft voice he was becoming fond of.

"It is..fine."

"You're lying," he replied simply, even as he lowered himself to sit upon the cushions.

Her eyes flashed up towards him, and he could see anger within him, but she quickly subdued it.

"You have a wonderful home, Master." She said through pursed lips, avoiding his statement.

"Speak the truth, girl.." he commanded, though his voice was still as soft has he could manage.

"What would you have me say, Master? I hate it here. I hate everything Roman. I wish I were free, with my father, my family. I wish I could see my homeland again. I wish I _were_ home?" She all but snapped, and then her eyes widened as she realized the brevity of her words. Immediately she made to grovel again. "Please, Master, forgi-"

"Stop." He interrupted her, and she obeyed.

"Yes, that is what I wish for you to say if it is the truth. I am surrounded by hundreds of people each day, Caelia, who would tell me anything I wish to hear. If I wanted to know how wonderful the villa is, or what a gracious and kind Master I am, I would fetch any of those people. Is it to much to ask to demand honesty from you? Is it too much to demand your true thoughts?"

Caelia was silenced. She had little idea of how to respond, and so she did not. After some time Lucius lifted a single hand and gestured her closer. She crawled several paces closer to him, until he held up his hand for her to stop. Scarcely out of his reach.

"It has been a terrible day, has it not? I am sure Aelus worked you all very hard."

"Yes," Caelia replied, finding the small talk unnerving and uncomfortable.

Lucius sensed her discomfort.

"Sing for me, Caelia."

The girl scarcely hesitated, and this pleased her Master. Within moments her magnificent voice was washing over him.

"You wrench the minds of the righteous into outrage, swerve then to their ruin - you have ignited this, this kindred strife. Father and son at war." Caelia began, a bit hesitant and obviously nervous. Her gaze lifted to his hood, his face cloaked in shadows and impossible to read.

"... and love alone the victor - "

Her pretty head canted aside, as though this new vantage would allow her to peer more closely at him.

"..warm, glance of the bride triumphant, burning with desire! Throned in power, side by side with the mighty laws!"

As though he sensed her silent plea, Lucius lifted his hands to brush the hood away from his face. His mask was still firmly in place, but the exposed planes of his features were handsome in the dim lighting. She could see the pleasure he found in her voice upon his face, and a bit of a smile graced her lips as she finished the stanza.

"Irresistible Aphrodite, never conquered - Love, you mock us for your sport."

Neither moved for a long moment, silence following the crystalline effect of her voice. Finally he nodded his head lightly, and she again averted her gaze.

"Antigone," he stated quietly.

She nodded.

"Very good."Though you could certainly improve. Shall I teach you?"

Caelia seemed surprised, forgetting for a moment that this man was in many ways her very tormenter. She was curious, intrigued.

"You sing?" She asked, a bit too eagerly, the smile returning to her face. Lucius decided suddenly that he liked it very much when Caelia smiled.

A bit of a smirk appeared on his lips, and he nodded in response.

"Yes, let me show you.."


	7. Travel

**This is a bit of a filler chapter, necessary to get us from point A to point B. Thank you for all of the WONDERFUL reviews. For those of you itching to see a bit more "Rome", we're heading there next! I wanted to build a bit of character depth before diving into the intrigue so that it wasn't overcome with so much "Rome" that phantom phans would be turned off.**

**Hope you stay tuned in, and let me know what you think!**

**-M**

(Thanks for finding the error, Maat.)

* * *

Marcus awoke feeling restless. He had spent nearly an hour the night before trying to find Caelia, only to be told by all of the other girls that she had not returned to her room. He had fretted over it for some time, before finally turning in himself.

Today he would not be swayed until he _did_ speak with her. The list of early morning chores were put aside and instead he made his way throughout the spacious villa. He searched the kitchens, only to be swatted at by the old crone. He hurried away from there and went from place to place in search of her, at last making his way to the bath. Caelia was not present, only several of the other girls splashing at the water from it's edge. Apparently not all in the household were so concerned with the perceived threat. He rolled his eyes and turned to walk away, only to be accosted by a petite woman with flaxen hair. Her skirts were hiked up near her hips, displaying the full length of her tanned legs. Moisture ran down them in droplets, and the small hands she lifted to his neck were moist as well.

"Marcus," she purred against his chin as she pressed a kiss there. "It has been far too long since you have come to me."

"Ahh," Marcus stuttered as he lifted his hands to curl about her familiar, rounded shoulders. He gently pushed her back.

"I am rather busy, Corrina. We shall have to resume this conversation later."

The sensual creature that would have appealed so very much to Marcus before did not hold the same command over him. Though she was undoubtedly desirable, something was missing. It was not the same.

Marcus felt a slight pang of regret as she pursed her pretty lips and with a saucy sway made her way back to the other girls. He could have any of them, or all of them, if he desired. But now worry clouded his mind and he could only think of Caelia. With a heavy sigh, he turned from the decadent sight and continued his search.

* * *

Caelia had awoken at least an hour after the other girls. She was quite embarrassed to have overslept and, having missed breakfast, she was famished. All of this seemed rather inconsequential as she combed through her curls and prepared for the day. All that she could think of was the events that had transpired in the night before.

_Before she could prepare herself, her Master had opened his mouth and the most heavenly sound had issued forth. The song he sang was an original composition and was a tale of heartache and death. The lyrics were unimportant, however, with such a voice. She was riveted and felt the instrument of her emotions being plucked with every word. Never had she felt so enmeshed with music as in that moment. It was as if his voice coiled within her own being and swelled until it consumed every fiber. It was sheer, exquisite ecstasy._

_All too soon the moment had ended, and she had been breathless. Her cheeks were moist with tears, and Caelia simply gaped at him. He smiled a bit, obviously confidant in his abilities. After her silence had continued for several moments,, he had cleared his throat and sat up a bit straighter._

"_Your voice is rare, Caelia. Special. Allow me to mold it."_

_She had nodded dumbly, still awe-struck with this experience. There was something terribly intimate about having shared this with him, and she felt the desire to squeeze his hand or hug him tightly. That idea was frightening, though, and she clasped her hands in her lap to prevent any actions she would regret._

"_Good, that is settled then. You should rest. I have kept you up far too late, and upon the sunset tomorrow we shall set off for Rome."_

_The euphoric haze of his singing had worn a bit then, as her jaw dropped again. "What?" Was all she managed to query._

_Frankly, Lucius had startled himself as well. In all of his planning he had eventually decided that a visit to the city was in order. He had also decided to take at least a half dozen of his servants. He despised travel so very much and a caravan of slaves were remarkably less conspicuous than a lone masked rider on a horse. He had not, however, included Caelia in any of those plans. He had spoken the words before he even realized it, and could not bring himself to regret it now even in the shock._

_He liked Caelia. He enjoyed Caelia. He owned Caelia. Who would tell him he could not enjoy her company? A bit like a petulant child who had been denied for far too long, Lucius decided at that moment that no one would take this sweet companionship away._

_The two had parted only moments after, and it had been hours before Caelia could sleep. The sound of his voice echoed about in her mind, until she was squirming within her bed. _

Caelia yawned, and finally stepped out into the corridors. She had few belongings, and so preparing for the trip had been little effort. All that remained now was to carry out her typical chores and wait for further instruction.

Why were they traveling to Rome at all? Was it related to the chaos of the day before? What sort of business would require the accompaniment of a slave? A new slave, nonetheless, and a woman?

Caelia headed toward the atrium, eager to taste sunlight upon her flesh. As she hurried along, she ran headlong into Marcus. He seemed as startled as she at first, and then immensely relieved.

"Caelia!" He breathed, hands grasping at her shoulders to pull her in for a tight squeeze. He released her as quickly, and Caelia was left blushing and more than a little confused.

"Good morning, Marcus.." she said softly.

"I looked for you all night, I was worried terribly when the girls said you hadn't returned. What kept you? Is all well? With all that is going on, you really shouldn't disappear. I thought something may have.."

Caelia cut him off with a shake of her head.

"You need not worry, Marcus, I am fine.." she said, suddenly feeling rather nervous to admit her location. It seemed far too personal to speak of.

"Were you here at all?" He pressed.

Caelia forced a little laugh and stepped around him.

"Of course I was!"

"Caelia.." he called, not at all put off by her avoidance. Before he could continue, though, Aelus called to him.

"Marcus, a word please."

Marcus passed an apologetic glance to Caelia, which she returned with a bit of a smile. When he turned to follow after the older man, Caelia released a sigh of relief.

* * *

"You seem taken with her," Aelus observed as he strolled the length of the hall with Marcus.

Marcus seemed a bit put off with the comment and shrugged his broad shoulders in an attempt to convince Aelus that it was all rather inconsequential.

Not to be fooled, however, Aelus simply chuckled.

"Another one to conquest, eh?" He continued in a teasing manner.

Marcus scowled and stopped abruptly.

"Never," he said between clenched teeth. The tension was palpable for a long moment, until Aelus began to laugh aloud and Marcus realized he had given himself away entirely. He grumbled, but fell into step beside Aelus once again.

"The Master has requested a party of six or more to accompany him to Rome at nightfall. I suppose you impressed him with your loyalty in the market the other day. He only asked for two by name, and you were one of them."

Marcus seemed surprised, and did not bother trying to hide it.

"Rome? Why?"

Aelus shrugged in the same way Marcus had, though they both knew that he did in fact understand a great deal more about the situation than anyone else. Aelus was the man most trusted in the entire household by the Master.

Marcus accepted the answer begrudgingly, then asked with a bit of alarm.

"How long shall we be gone?"

Aelus chuckled yet again, and replied in a voice laced with amusement.

"I am not sure, Marcus. I wouldn't worry about your little interest, however. The Master requested her by name as well."

Marcus stopped dead in his tracks, and Aelus either didn't notice or didn't care. He continued.

"Be ready at nightfall, Marcus."

With that he disappeared around the next corner and left Marcus staring after him.

Lucius had a personal interest in Caelia? The thought angered and alarmed him, but also left him feeling a bit helpless. Usually he did not mind his station terribly, as he lived a blessed life compared to most slaves. In this, however, he was reminded that he was indeed a slave and if Lucius Julius Caesar desired Caelia for himself, there was little he could do to thwart it.

Red-faced and steaming, he blew several curses to the gods and then stormed away to prepare for the journey ahead.


	8. Aqueduct

**Thank you for the wonderful reviews. They're fueling my passion and I find myself writing far more than I have time for. Ah, well. Sleep can wait, can't it?**

**I check my facts and brush up on things before I write this, but please do remember that this IS my story and I am taking the liberty of changing anything I want.**

**With that said, I hope you enjoy. Next we see the eternal city! Woo!**

**-M**

* * *

The stars twinkled merrily. The waters were dark and churned endlessly, and Caelia was just nauseous enough to find it difficult to sleep. As the sun had set over the horizon she had met with the other slaves who would be traveling. Ironically and strangely enough, she was the only female. Among her companions was Marcus, as well as four other men. The men were well-armed and carried their own provisions, while Caelia had been instructed only to bring a modest amount of foodstuffs. They had milled about anxiously until the Master appeared, and in silence beckoned they follow.

Hours had passed and they were at sea. The passage would be much quicker this way, and easier on the few mounts they had brought along. Marcus had been surprisingly quiet throughout the trip thus far, and had retired with four of the other men. Another kept watch, for what Caelia wasn't certain, but his pacing presence on the other side of the bow was somehow comforting. She had been told to sleep as well, but the constant pitch of the vessel made her ill and fresh air proved to be necessary. She had come to the surface and drank deeply of the moist air, and then settled herself against the railing to watch the waves.

Somehow she felt free. The night was calm enough, a gentle wind guided them and quiet prevailed. Caelia felt unfettered, as though she could simply reach out and embrace the majestic sea and become a part of it. Then she would be free of this slavery, free of the sorrow, free of the regrets and memories. Her eyes drifted closed and she leaned further against the railing, imagining the sweet bliss of an eternal sleep.

"The waters are quite unforgiving, I assure you.." a voice came suddenly, piercing her reverie and causing her to lose balance. She pitched forward a bit and grasped frantically at the railing. Suddenly the appeal of the waters was gone and she felt as though she were falling headlong into death.

A vice like grip grasped about her waist, however, and only a breath after the entire ordeal had started she was on sound footing again and staring up into the hooded face of her Master. She couldn't be certain, as it was terribly dim, but she thought she saw laughter brewing within his gaze.

Caelia became indignant and pursed her lips a bit, crossing her arms over her chest.

"Are you laughing at me? I nearly drowned, and it would have been on your head!" She scolded him.

Lucius turned to lean against the railing himself, though with his tall frame he had to crouch quite a bit more so that his forearms could rest there.

"It would be the only pitiable death on my account," he replied.

Caelia was not sure what he was implying, nor how to respond, so she simply resumed her former position – this time beside the man who owned her.

"The waves make me a bit ill," she said in a soft voice, somewhat apologetic. She had expressly disobeyed by not staying in her room.

"There is little threat to you while we are onboard, Caelia. When we disembark, however, you must listen to me. Your life could depend on it."

Lucius stated this in such a quiet, calm manner that it made Caelia shudder. How could he speak of death and life in the same moment with such a callous disinterest?

"How long will the journey take?" She interjected, again trying to divert the conversation.

"Perhaps a day from the time we reach land. It depends on how quickly you can travel."

Caelia knew that he was referring not just to herself, but to the other men as well. She glanced over the slope of her shoulder toward him, but she could only see the side of his shroud. She thought to ask him to take it down, but reconsidered and with a small sigh looked to the stars again.

"Shall I tell you a secret?"

Lucius seemed amused as he turned his head toward her. The nones of the month had arrived and the moon was half-full, enough to reflect off the water and illuminate both his face and mask from this vantage. His lips were curled into a bit of a smile, and Caelia lost her breath.

After a moment of enduring her blatant staring, Lucius averted his gaze uncomfortably.

"Yes," he said.

The spell-broken, Caelia could speak again and continued. Clearing her throat lightly in embarrassment, she said "When I was a girl, I would always hear stories of Rome. How majestic and wonderful she was. I always wanted to travel there, but my father would scold me. He would talk of how Rome was hungry for land and conquest and nothing good would ever come of it for us."

The story lapsed into silence, and neither found it necessary to comment further until Caelia concluded.

"I suppose he was right. Everything that was dear to me was destroyed, and now Rome mocks me by making me her slave."

"Circumstance," Lucius muttered so lightly Caelia wasn't sure if she had heard him correctly.

"Did you speak?" She finally asked, after he didn't offer to repeat himself.

Lucius suddenly stood, straightening his powerful form. Caelia remembered how petite she was in his presence as she stood as well, and her head was scarcely the height of his shoulder.

"It's all circumstance, Caelia. None of us are born to live perfect lives. What matters most is what you _do_ with your circumstance."

There was an edge of bitterness in his voice, and before she could formulate a response he had offered her a stiff bow and then turned in a flourish of his cloak to disappear once more. Caelia stared after him for some time, and then reluctantly returned to her own quarters as well. If Lucius was as relentless in travel as he was enigmatic in all other ways, tomorrow would be trying at the least.

* * *

Reaching land had proven eventful, as a small melee had broken out between the shipmen and Lucius' servants. Someone had insulted the other and a blow had been thrown. Within minutes all save for Marcus and another were involved, while those two tried to separate the brawl. It had continued on for several moments with a frightened Caelia only staring in horror. Blood was shed, and the entire thing was terribly barbaric. The only other time she had witnessed such violence was the night she had lost her parents. 

It had ended with a single bellow from the Master, however.

"**Stop!"**

Half an hour later they were off the ship and well on their way. Lucius was brooding and obviously not in the mood to speak with anyone, while the other men were grumbling and nursing their minor wounds. A cut lip, a busted nose, a blacked eye.

Caelia, however, was brimming with anticipation. While part of her detested the very thought of Rome and all it represented, the girl within could not be silenced. To see such an amazing city was simply exciting in any circumstance that would permit it, and this was one of those. When she could be silent no longer, she ran ahead a bit to catch pace with Marcus.

"What were they fighting about?" She asked, eyes wide with innocence as she looked upwards at him. He smiled that familiar, handsome grin that made her feel at ease.

"Do you like bloodsport?" He teased.

Caelia gasped. "Oh, no! I simply wondered why men find it so necessary to bloody each others nose. There are better ways to handle things."

Marcus quirked a brow, and continued jesting with her.

"Is that so? One of the men aboard the ship accused Junius of.. ahh.. how do I say this delicately enough for you, Caelia? He implied that Junius prefers the company of men. Junius found this particularly insulting, and you seen what happened next."

Caelia blushed furiously, and picked at the hem of her sleeve. "Oh," she finally said.

Marcus laughed deeply at her response, unwittingly drawing the attention of those behind them. He continued nonetheless.

"How would a woman have handled such a thing?" He asked.

Caelia worried a rosy lip between her teeth and seemed to think very hard about this before replying.

"Well, I suppose she would be relieved that it was so evident."

Marcus was taken aback and almost halted his pace to stare at her. He had not imagined that Caelia would be the type…

"That she preferred men, of course!" She finished with a bit of a grin, and Marcus laughed again. This time Caelia giggled as well. The sound was sweet and soothing to Marcus, who had missed her company very much in the days preceeding this one.

The two fell into comfortable conversation for quite a while longer, and it wasn't until they stopped to eat and rest that they separated.

Lucius was on edge, always glancing about as though they would be ensconced with robbers and thieves at any moment. He hurried them all along as they drank deeply, consumed a meager amount of bread, and relieved themselves. He did not join them for any of this and as soon as it seemed possible, he was spurring them onwards.

* * *

Lucius was disgruntled. He, as well as the other men, had seen all too clearly the exchange between Caelia and Marcus. The others had even begun to make crude jokes about how long it would take Marcus to win her favors. He had wanted to kill them all, and to whisk Caelia away from the pompus slave beside of her. The strength of this emotion startled him, though, and he restrained himself in the same way he had for years in a villa full of Rome's most beautiful women. 

Now, however, they were nearing their destination. The sun would set within a few hours, but within less time than that the city of Rome on her seven hills would be visible. Rationalizing that Caelia would need to be undisturbed to experience it appropriately, he rode out ahead of the rest a bit and then barked back.

"**Caelia!"**

Marcus bristled at the bellow, but could say nothing as Caelia all but sprinted to catch up with him. Though he could not hear their words, the picture presented before him was enough to disturb him. Caelia smiled as she neared the steed, and lifted a small hand to rest easily against it's neck. The hood tipped down as though the Master had spoken to her. A pleased expression passed across her face, and then she looked forward and he could read her no more.

* * *

"Master?" Caelia queried, as she curled her hand within the horse's fine mane. A pretty smile adorned her features, and Lucius paused to wonder what he had done to earn such an endearment. 

"The city…" Lucius breathed, as though he were laying it all at her feet.

The look of anticipation and delight that lifted her features was priceless, and then she turned to look upon the city of Rome as it splayed out before her in the orange light of sunset. He could see the breath lodge in her throat. After some time, she managed a wistful sigh.

"It's beautiful, so much more than I could have imagined."

The two had halted to allow her an undisturbed view, and by now the rest of their party was within distance to hear their conversation. The Master began to speak to this, the least of his slaves, and it was more than any of them had heard him speak in their lifetime.

They all began to proceed much more slowly toward the city, as Lucius explained things to her. She absorbed his words with an unquenchable thirst and gave him such appreciative glances and smiles that he longed to explain the entire universe.

"That is the river Tiber. Water is provided to the city by aqueducts. They use natural forces to bring the water to the city. There are eleven of them. They span more than three hundred and fifty kilometers. Though most of them are buried, you can see a few supported by arches above ground."

Here he paused, and glanced down to see if his little pupil was still interested. She seemed riveted, and he continued.

"It made great advancement in sanitation. A great deal of the waste can now simply be swept away by the force of the water, and into the river."

Caelia crinkled her nose as she looked up at him, and the great Lucius Julius Caesar chuckled.

The men behind him were, to say the least, astonished.


	9. Echo of Demons

**Please enjoy and continue to review. **

**-M**

* * *

Rome was _magnificent_. Caelia could have never imagined such a glorious city, even with all the tales that endlessly circle about this pinnacle of humanity. They passed by enormous structures, and Lucius would lean down just a bit to explain each of them to her. The Forum of Trajan, the Pantheon, the gymnasiums, bath complexes, libraries. It was all incredibly overwhelming and Caelia found herself nodding breathlessly as her Master spoke. Her favorite was the Colosseum, and she nearly halted before it. Lucius indulged her, and the rest of the group behind him halted awkwardly as they waited. Caelia stared wide-eyed at the massive marvel, while the hooded face of their Master was tipped downward toward the slave-girl.

Finally, however, he urged her onwards as well.

"More than a million people reside in this city," he said, speaking loudly now because of the noise. Iron chariot wheels and the sound of horses hooves created a loud din that she struggled to hear him over.

The little tour of the city continued, through the city center and it's ghetto-like ambiance. Thousands of tiny apartments were packed together, and it seemed inumerable amounts of people were forced to share them. The glitter was gone from this area of Rome, and Caelia found herself clinging to her Masters' horse and breathing a soft prayer of thanksgiving for the first time since she had arrived in his villa. The loss of her freedom would always be difficult to bear, but Caelia realized for the first time how true the words of the other slaves were. They were indeed very lucky to serve the Master they did, in the marvelous home they shared.

Before long the elegant Palatine Hill was visible and again they paused. With clipped words, Lucius indicated that the imperial residences were located there. His features were taut with barely surpressed anger, and Caelia noticed that the tension in his shoulders returned. She did not have time to consider what could have made him so upset at the mere sight of the hill, however, as he interrupted her reverie.

"Return to the others," he muttered brusquely, his voice a bit gravely with emotion. Caelia nodded, touseled curls bouncing about her shoulders as she released her hold on his mount and stepped away.

"Master?" she intoned softly, before she turned.

He only glanced toward her, the distant expression still upon his features.

"Thank you," she continued, and offered him another sweet smile. For a moment she saw his features soften, and a smile that did not reach his lips illuminated his eyes. As quickly as it had come, though, it passed and he nodded mildly and then spurred his horse onwards. He disappeared quickly into the crowd, and Caelia stared after him.

"He is a strange man," a male voice muttered into her ear. Reverie broken, Caelia glanced over the slope of her shoulder to find Marcus. Only a few feet behind was the rest of their little caravan. She disregarded his comment, much to Marcus' chagrin, and asked instead..

"Where is he going?"

Marcus chuckled a bit, as he placed a broad hand upon her shoulder and guided her toward the rest of her group.

"It's impossible to tell, Caelia. Come, we must find our lodging before night-falls."

* * *

Lucius sat alone, mentally cursing himself for making his partiality for Caelia so obvious in the previous hours. As he considered this, he began to curse the very fact that he _was_ partial to Caelia, and to question it. What did the girl have that was so damned appealing? She was certainly not the most beautiful in his villa, and probably not the most intelligent. Her voice, though raw and untrained, was magnificent but he had been exposed to the best of the world. Though he thought, with proper attention, she could easily rank among them – he should not be affected so much by a mere song. And it was times when she wasn't singing that seemed to impact him the most. The way her fingers seemed so small as they curled around the bridle of his horse, or the sprinkling of hair atop her small hand that was so light it could only be visible when the sun shone upon it. The way the wind danced in her wild curls, lifting them and tangling them together, sometimes sending an errant strand across her face. The way she would lift those slender fingers to brush it away. The best, however, was probably the way she would smile when she regarded him. As though he was not a deformed, hideous bastard hiding within a cloak. As though she could see past the mask and all that it represented. Somehow he felt as though she was the first person he had ever met, since his father, that truly smiled at _him._

Such thoughts were dangerous. They distracted him, and even now was he sat in the darkness of another man's home, waiting for his arrival, he was paying little attention. Thoughts of the girl dulled his senses and he had to force himself to purge those visions and focus upon the sight and sounds around him. He must be prepared for this encounter, and being taken by surprise would not help matters in the least.

* * *

To say that the Emperor was an arrogant man would be an understatement. Upon succession to power, Octavius (now known as Augustus) became almost maniacal in his need to control. It dominated his every waking moment, until he would work himself into an absolute uproar over some trivial detail. His closest advisors encouraged that he calm himself, that he learn some restraint and with it _trust_. He must learn to trust others, at least with details that were not of vast importance. Augustus, in his copious amounts of self-worth and pride, thought that nothing could be done without his direct intervention, however. He meddled in the affairs of all of those beneath him, and those closest to him began to worry for his sanity.

That same exhuberance was cast into his most recent of worries. At a recent festival the name of Julius' biological son had been dropped in conversation, and though he had long since had the fool who muttered it tortured and killed, he could find no peace. He began to dream of Lucius coming for him, murdering him viciously in his sleep. In others Lucius would ride through the streets of Rome on a great steed and all of the people bowed to him as though he were a god. In the daylight hours he would fret over any possible infiltration, until finally he knew he had to end it. Lucius must die.

He considered sending an assassin to accomplish the goal quite simply, but instead he chose to make a game of it. Many of the men who had been so influential during the time of Julius were gone, and most of his most fervent supporters were. One remained, however. He had been the financial backbone to many of Caesar's campaigns and a close friend.

Crassus.

The plot began to hatch within his twisted mind, until it had come full circle. That is why the blithering old man was awkwardly attempting to find his knees before his dais at nearly midnight.

"Ah, Crassus.." the Emperor spoke, and the older man quaked with what his vain ruler perceived to be terror.

"You have long been a champion for Rome, have you not? Throughout your political life and beyond, the interest of our beloved Empire has always been at heart, has it not?"

Crassus found his feet again, anger causing his hands to tremble at his sides. The vicious snake before him could not be trusted in the smallest sense, and he knew that no good could come of this impromptu summons. He could do little, however, but bow his head mildly in acknowledgment to the false words falling from cruel lips.

A pleased smirk lifted Augustus' face, and he continued with his practiced speech.

"Your faithfulness has not been overlooked, Crassus. It is that faithfulness and my desire to reward it which brings you here tonight. You see, I have heard quite clearly that there is a threat to your life."

Crassus stiffened at mention of reward, and even more so when his ruler continued.

"Emperor.." he began, but in a childish gesture Augustus lifted a single finger to his lips and shushed him.

"I know that you may find this difficult to believe, old man, but the bastard child of your former friend..." here the facade slipped a bit, anger and jealousy tinging each word as Augustus stalked toward Crassus like prey. His eyes shone with a heated fury, and Crassus immediately felt concern for his person.

The heated moment stopped awkwardly, the unusual man slipping behind the facade once more to smile an unusual and expectant smile at Crassus.

Crassus, meanwhile, shifted uncomfortably and when it became clear that he would be forced to answer, breathed a reply and question with more than a little dread.

"Lucius?"

The Emperor seemed to explode with laughter. He clasped his hands over his sides and laughed loudly, the sound filling the great hall. It echoed, like the cry of demons. Again, just as quickly as it began it stopped. An immediate ending, abrupt and in mid-laugh. After the echoes fell, silence reigned. With a scowl he continued.

"Yes. _Lucius." _The name was little more than a hiss. "He intends to kill you, Crassus. You see, he believes that you convinced his precious father to adopt me in place of him. He's jealous, angry, and we both know how dangerous he can be. I only thought to warn you."

Without another word of explanation, Crassus was ushered from the grounds and sent into the dark Roman streets. It was late and he was fatigued, but his mind was racing. For a moment he did not believe a word of Augustus' words. The troubling thought, however, is that it all meant _something._ Some diabolical plot or event was no doubt looming on the horizon and with a very tired sigh, Crassus began toward his home. Perhaps after a glass of wine and a good night's sleep, he could begin to piece together what tonight had meant at all.


	10. The Sage

**This update is shorter than the last but I really had no intention of updating again today anyway. You owe this one to speedy (Cathy) who left a review on Possessive asking for an update on this one. What can I say, it inspired me to write. )**

**At any rate, enjoy and please review!**

**-M**

* * *

The night was cool, and had a peculiar smell that Caelia could not describe. She attempted to attach attributes to it. Was it the horses, the carriages, the people themselves? The food they bartered and sold along the streets, or the wine they drank at leisure? It was none of those things, and yet all of them. The stars above twinkled merrily, but puffy white clouds floated about – blotting them out only to reveal them once more moments later. Things felt peaceful.

"Quite the stargazer, aren't you?"

Caelia recognized the voice, and didn't turn. She was sitting within the arched doorway of the house they had settled in, looking into the small courtyard in the back. A light smile graced her lips in response to his query, and she replied.

"I don't want to miss a moment of this. Who knows when I'll leave the villa again."

Marcus laughed lightly, and settled beside of her.

"Do you mind?"

"Of course not."

Silence fell between the two, and then Marcus reached for her hand. She unwound her arm from about her knees and let him take it, a curious gaze falling upon his handsome features.

Marcus smiled up at her, the moonlight bathing her in an ethereal light that made her look like a goddess. He began to comment on that, and then thought better of it. Instead, he held her small hand within his palm and began to trace the lines with his finger.

The touch was more intimate than he could have known, and after only a moment a shiver passed through Caelia.

"Are you reading my future?" She teased lightly, after clearing her throat.

"Perhaps. Shall I tell you what I see?"

Caelia smiled. She enjoyed this comfort, the easy banter that fell between herself and Marcus. She still thought that he was terribly handsome, but the compelling nervousness she had felt around him had abated somewhat. He was not at all as ambiguous and strange as Lucius, and she did not feel that same tremor of excitement in his presence. This thought jarred her back to the present, where a frown had creased her features.

"Caelia?" Marcus asked again, a worried expression replacing his laughter.

"Mmm?" She asked, putting a smile on again.

"Where were you just then? Are you well?" Marcus canted his head to the side that he may see her features fully, and the gesture caused a dark curl to fall across his forehead. Without thought Caelia lifted her hand to brush it away, and he released a soft sigh at the touch.

"I am quite well. I was only thinking. Come now, tell me the story of my life.." she said, with a soft giggle that simply melted Marcus' heart and made him drop the line of questioning entirely.

"Well," he said dramatically. He coughed once, cleared his throat, and sat up again. He traced the lines one by one, with an intense expression. When Caelia could take it no longer she simply burst into giggles.

"You're really hampering the process," he teased.

Caelia sat up straighter, and glanced down at her palm once more.

"This line," he began in a sultry voice that caused her to shiver once more, "means that you will have a long life." His finger ran from beneath her middle finger, horizontally across her palm until the line ended. His touch was warm and light, and nearly tickled. Caelia only smiled, and he continued.

"This one," he said again, his voice softening even more, "means that you will have great happiness." His finger ran the curve beginning below her index finger and sloping around the palm of her thumb, until it ended at her wrist. His fingers stroked lightly there, and Caelia felt her breath catch.

"And this one," he continued without pause, "is your love line." His fingers stroked, again and again, the line in the center of her palm. When he didn't continue, she lifted wide eyes upwards to him and asked, "What does it say?"

"Hmm," he said softly, pretending to peer quite closely at her palm. "I cannot tell by sight."

Caelia nearly slumped against his shoulder in disappointment. "Oh."

With a teasing smile, he uncurled her fingers once more and lifted her palm to the cool night air.

"There is a way, however.."

"Yes?"

At that Marcus lowered his lips to her palm. They were warm and soft against her flesh, and a small gasp was her only reply. Marcus lifted his gaze to her, and the sultry way he stared up at her caused her to flush. The chaste kiss lasted only a moment, and then his lips parted. The heat and moisture of his breath expelled against her palm was nearly her undoing, and when his tongue darted out to trace the line she nearly moaned.

A handsome, devilish grin played upon his face as he pressed another soft kiss to her palm and then released her.

"It says that you will find a great love..."

Caelia curled her fingers into her palm, somewhat shocked by his brazen action. A giddy pleasure coursed within her, however, and she longed for nothing more than to feel that teasing kiss once more. Perhaps this time upon her wrist, or throat, or her own lips...

"A great love?" She whispered, for she could do no more.

Marcus simply nodded sagely, and with another shudder Caelia started to giggle.

"You're making all of this up, aren't you?" she asked, attempting to lighten the conversation and free herself of the blanket of desire he so effortlessly doused her in.

"Yes," he conceded, as he wound a single arm about her waist. Before she could discern his intent, he had pulled her against his chest and she was staring up at him in the moonlight. "But what if it could be true, Caelia?"

His gaze was intense, firey and searching. She felt pinned beneath it and as though she could hardly breathe.

"Marcus.." was all that she could reply, and then his lips did find hers. He held her against his strong chest, and Caelia lifted her small hands to curl within the hair at the nape of his neck. They shared a leisurely, exploring kiss for several moments until Caelia broke away, gasping for air.

"Caelia," Marcus whispered huskily. "I want to talk to you about something. Do you know what _contubernium_ is?"

Caelia simply shook her head, her eyes still closed from their kiss. Marcus could not resist tasting of her once more, his hands lifting to stroke the smooth expanse of her shoulders that was exposed to him as he kissed her deeply.

A loud noise in the courtyard ended the intrigue and Caelia curled her fingers within Marcus' cloak in fright.

"What was that?" she whispered. Marcus stared into the darkness, attempting to locate the source of the noise. When he could not, he pulled Caelia to her feet.

"Into the house, Caelia. Send one of the other men. Do not leave your room unless I instruct you to."

Caelia hurried inside to do as he had said, and Marcus' question remained unanswered.

* * *

Crassus was weary by the time he reached his home. His wife and servants were all sleeping, and he tread quietly toward the room he conducted most of his business in. It was dark, as the moon was covered with cloud and he had not paused long enough to gather a lamp. He fumbled about within, dropping his cloak carelessly aside the doorway.

"Ah, gods.." he cursed as he thought about all the Emperor had said. What a terrible mess! He was too old to be involved in such things.

Out of nowhere a hand grasped his wrist and wrenched his arm behind him. He opened his mouth to yell and before he could a hand clamped over it. He was all but dragged backwards into the darkest corner of this room, and thrust unceremoniously against the wall. His arm and mouth were both released and he hissed as he rubbed the offended wrist. He still could not see his assailant, but the stealth with which he had been attacked left little doubt in his mind. With more than a little disenchantment and sorrow he said through a sigh.

"Hello, Lucius."


	11. The Stain of Blood

**I am sorry, beloved readers, for the length of time that has passed since I have updated. My husband and I found out we were expecting a little girl (yay) and to be honest I haven't felt like writing. It's been a crazy, busy summer. At any rate, I'm still sleepy and busy all of the time so I've decided to continue writing at the cost of historical accuracy. This is going to gradually meld from a more accurate portrayal of Rome to a sort of AU blending of the Rome that exists in my imagination. I simply don't have the time to do the research I would like, but I don't want to neglect this. I like it too much.**

**So, is that kosher? )**

**I know it's been a while but please review and let me know what you think!**

**-M**

* * *

Caelia had hesitated only once in her obedience to Marcus, and that was when the thought that he may be hurt crossed her mind. She almost doubled back to assure herself of his safety, and then forced herself to continue on her way to the small quarters that had been provided to her. There she lay for some time, trying to quiet her breathing that she may hear any sounds from outside. At some point conscious thought began to slip, and dreams fell upon her.

_The wind was in her hair, salty and damp as it rolled in from the waves. Caelia rubbed her hands along her arms to ward off the chill, and could not help but smile at the sense of freedom she felt. The sun was golden, even as it set, and warmed her cheeks as she allowed her eyes to close. She was terribly close to the edge, the cliff ending abruptly only paces before her and crashing into the rocks below. She felt no fear, however. Only peace. In this quiet, beautiful place there was nothing else. Only peace._

_And then she felt him. The tangible, tiny shiver of electricity that raced along her spine in his mere presence preluded the soft rustle of his cloak upon the breeze. He did not speak, and did not reach out to touch her. It was unnecessary. What existed between them in these silent, unspoken moments was so pristine it did not need to be discussed. A smile danced upon her lips._

_Peace. The angel of darkness, of doom brought her only peace. Somehow Caelia knew that it had not always been so. She felt within her soul the struggle that had once existed. She had battled her fascination, her attraction to the ruthless murderer. Fear had driven her away, with almost catastrophic results. It had not been an easy road for them. Now, however, that was all in the past and she could simply bask in the protective warmth of his presence._

_As though he could resist her no longer, his cool hand lifted to cup her cheek. Caelia's smile widened, and she leaned into him, still keeping her eyes closed._

"_Mmm," she murmured softly in encouragement. His soft, musical, heavenly laughter filled her ears and within a moment she felt the warmth of his breath upon her forehead, and then his cool, awkward kiss followed._

"_Caelia…" he uttered, as though she were a goddess to be revered, a true treasure._

_She reached for him, curling her fingers first within his cloak and then lifting them upwards to trace the strong column of his throat. Little chin lifting, she arched upon tip toe to reach and bestow a kiss upon him. Before her lips could find their mark, however, she felt an unusual sensation beneath her fingertips._

_It was wet. It was sticky. It was warm._

_Her eyes snapped open in alarm, to find the masked face of Lucius before her. In the place of the adoration her mind had created, his eyes held only pain and questioning._

"_Why?" he choked out, his beautiful voice tainted. "Why, Caelia..?"_

_Caelia could see then that upon her hands was his blood. A clean and horrible slit ran the length of his throat and blood poured copiously from it. It ran along his cloak, ruining the luxurious fabric, until it pooled beneath her and stained her feet. And her hands.. oh, could the blood ever be removed from them? It was beneath her fingernails, staining her palms._

_Caelia recoiled in horror._

"_No!" she wept, even as he fell from the edge of the precipice and tumbled into the waves before._

"_No!" she screamed, until her throat was raw with the exertion. She dropped to her knees at the very edge, searching for his body among the rocks._

"_Lucius.." she wept, over and over. "I am sorry. I am sorry!"_

_A pair of hands tried to pull her away, and she shook them off, clinging to her last vision of him. More insistently they began to shake her, until the hazy world of her dream began to dissipate and the simple roof of their dwelling in Rome came into view. With it, a view of Marcus' face._

"Marcus?" She gasped, drawing in a deep breath as though she had been drowning. She sat up quickly, putting a hand to her forehead. It was wet with sweat, as were her clothing. "Oh gods.." she continued, looking around in fright. Marcus tried to console her, but she couldn't make out his words.

"Just a dream. Just a dream.." she murmured to herself, until the racing of her heart calmed enough that she could hear him over the incessant pounding in her ears.

"That's right, Caelia…" he soothed. "Just a dream. Calm down.."

As the world came into rights again, Caelia could see that it was light outside. It had apparently been dawn for at least an hour, and finally the experience from the night before began to return to her. Staring at the stars, marveling on Rome. Marcus reading her palm, kissing her hand. The warm feeling of desire he had stirred in her.

Somehow, after her dream, it felt wrong to reflect on the latter of these and she blushed against the memory. She felt turmoil and could not explain it, but the worry that creased Marcus' brow was enough to draw her attention back to present. She had to convince him she was well enough to be left alone, so that she could sort through her thoughts.

She forced a pretty smile onto her lips and regarded him seriously.

"I am fine now, really Marcus. I am sorry to have troubled you. Could I have a moment alone, please? I am quite disheveled and would prefer to prepare for my day."

At the confidence and calmness in her voice Marcus seemed appeased, and so he stood and disappeared through her doorway. Caelia released a pent up breath and fell onto her mat again.

_Oh gods,_ she thought. _What does it all mean?_

_

* * *

_

The contentment and ease that Lucius felt in the darkness was not obtainable by the older man he had assaulted, and though Crassus knew within a moment who it was with him in the thick of night, he found it no less unnerving.

"Have a little tet-a-tet with our beloved Emperor, _friend?_"

The voice was familiar. Perhaps a bit older than the last time he had spoken with Lucius, but no less haunting in it's beauty. He spoke caustically, and the way he spoke the word friend with a certain malice caused a shudder to pass through Crassus. The older man knew, however, that to show fear and weakness before Lucius would only infuriate him further and so he struggled to retain his wits. He brushed himself off from the physical altercation, making light of the aching throb in his arm.

"Ah, Lucius. All-knowing, all-seeing. If you know where I was, then certainly you'll know the rudeness with which I was summoned at this late hour, and my displeasure at leaving the warmth of my bed to attend to the raving…"

Lucius cut him off with a soft 'tsk'.

"You always did enjoy hearing yourself speak," he chided in a somewhat mocking tone, though the viciousness of their initial greeting seemed to be waning. "I see nothing has changed there."

Feeling as though the imminent danger to his person had passed, Crassus simply released a sigh of relief and allowed the insult to pass. He fumbled about until he lit a dim lamp, and then settled at his desk. He motioned to another seat, though he knew Lucius would not accept.

"You've come a long way, Lucius, to assault an old man in the middle of the night. What brings you to Rome?"

"The same thing that separated you from your whores," the dark figure muttered cynically.

Crassus lifted a hand to rub at his wrinkled brow. It was hours until dawn, and somehow he knew that tonight would seem to never end.

"It would seem we have much to discuss," he finally replied. The cloaked figure still looming opposite him only inclined his head in agreement. Crassus took a moment of careful consideration.

Lucius was not at all without a soul, but those who had witnessed it were few and far between. He was, to most, a vicious killer. Worse yet, a pawn of the Emperor to carry out the most diabolical of executions on anyone who might cross him. It had been years, at least to Crassus' knowledge, since such means had been implemented. Even the people of Rome had begun to question the sanity of their leader when gruesome murder after gruesome murder came to light. At the word of his closest advisors, Augustus had turned his taste for blood to other avenues, perhaps just as disgusting.

Crassus did not know what Lucius had been doing in those few quiet years, but he did know that this child of his lost friend would do anything to protect himself or those he deemed worthy of protection. To have him as an enemy was not an option.

"You are planning to kill me, Lucius?" He asked simply, to the point. It was late and he simply could not think of a more subtle way to approach the situation.

His dark opponent seemed perplexed by the question, a moment of silence filling the room before he replied.

"A fitting question coming from the man who has so recently made an attempt on my life?"

Crassus blanched. "What?"

The look of utter ignorance and shock upon his face was enough to convince Lucius that the man was, in fact, innocent.

"Ah," Lucius continued. "I see that we are both pawns in one of his twisted little games. An attempt to poison me was recently made, and your name was implicated by the conspirators. You, obviously, knew nothing of this. Tell me, what has the pompous…."

Lucius had to pause to reign in his temper, before he could finish his thought.

"What has the _Emperor_ told you?"


	12. Merciful Death

Caelia bustled about in the rented villa, finding things to straighten and clean. Once she had accomplished all that reasonably could be done or needed to be done at all, she started again. Physical exertion distracted her from the horrid dream. The image of Lucius' blood upon her hands would not leave her, and it made a knot form in her throat every time she thought upon it.

"Caelia.." Marcus spoke lightly, and she started.

"Ah! You frightened me.." she breathed, brushing a few errant tresses from her gaze before returning to the heavy tapestry she currently beat without mercy.

"You seem a bit on edge," he countered lightly, leaning against the balcony edge.

"What happened last night?" She queried, an attempt to divert him from her obviously sour mood.

"Ah.." Marcus began, hesitant. He wanted to be honest with her, and alternately he wanted to shield her. To protect the sweet innocence that exuded from her.

"Just an intruder.." he finally offered, holding out a handful of figs. "You haven't eaten. Hungry?"

Caelia desired, more than anything, to brush his efforts away. Perhaps his company could ease her tormented mind, however. She relented and took the offering, abandoning the work of her hands to lean against the banister as well and nibble upon the fruit.

"Well? What happened?"

Marcus chuckled at her curiosity. "He was simply detained. The Master can deal with that later."

"Ah," was her only reply, her mood obviously darkening once more at mention of Lucius.

"Caelia, are you-"

"Do you think dreams really mean anything at all, Marcus?" She interrupted, her gaze lifted to the horizon where she could see Rome in all of her busy, over-crowded and bustling glory.

Marcus could not discern what it was exactly that had her in such a queer mood, but he chose to humor her.

"I am not sure, Caelia. My parents believed that dreams were gifts from the gods. Warnings, sometimes. Encouragements others. I have had enough bizarre ones to think that perhaps they are a result of nothing more than the choice I made in dinner the night before. Why? Did you have a troubling dream?"

Caelia only nodded, and no amount of prodding could prompt a confession of the details.

Lucius did not return until well past mid-day. Stealth was as much a part of his nature as breathing and so he entered the residence without any detection from the slaves within. He was exhausted. He had spent the better part of the night and most of the morning with his old friend Crassus. They had compared notes until they believed they had outlined the Emperor's scheme thus far. It was a bit like a heady game of strategy, and though they could (and did) spend hours speculating – they had no way of knowing his next move.

They agreed upon a course of action. A plan was formed, and then they had spent several hours just speaking easily with one another. If they both shared one thing in common it was an intense sense of loss over Gaius Julius. The ability to commiserate and share such thoughts meant more to Lucius than he would have ever expected. He went into Crassus' home expecting an altercation and instead had found himself comforted and enjoying the company of the older man.

Morning had come in a blink and Lucius trudged into his accommodations seeking at least a few moments of rest. Before he could do such though, a persistent beating sounded at his doorway.

"Yes," he grumbled roughly.

"Master," a somewhat timid voice replied. One of the male slaves he had brought along was at the door, stuttering along about something.

Lucius' was tired and of a short temper, and he swung the door open unexpectedly. The man had, apparently, been standing very closely to said door and nearly fell into the impressive width of his Master's chest. He grappled for anything to catch his balance and ended up gripping at the cloak swirled about Lucius' shoulders. Once he had righted himself he recoiled as if burned, a hissing noise escaping betwixt his teeth.

His chattering continued on, worsening with the newfound fear. When Lucius could not tolerate it any longer, he bellowed.

"Marcus!"

With that he slammed the door on the pitiable creature groveling there, his foul mood taking an especially dark turn.

Marcus heard the call from his position with Caelia upon the balcony. He cast her an apologetic glance and then slipped inside.

* * *

Caelia finally sought out real sustenance, filling her stomach before moving into the small lawn just behind the villa. She had exhausted herself on things that did not even need to be done for most of the morning. With the edge taken off of her fright and worry over the dream, she felt whimsical enough to stare at Rome once more. The city seemed to have a heartbeat all it's own that throbbed within her, and she enjoyed the invigorating sense of life it gave her. She could easily imagine, however, how exhausting it would be to live there for an extended period.

It was as she pondered these things that she felt rather than heard the other slaves bustle quickly into and out of her proximity. Her curiosity was piqued, and she followed along.

* * *

"He breached the wall, but we subdued him. I am quite sure he intended harm, as he was thoroughly armed." Marcus intoned lightly, seeming less and less frightened of his Master with each audience he was granted. Lucius found it a bit refreshing after his encounter with the fool at the door.

"Yes, of course.." he breathed, thinking aloud more than speaking to Marcus. "Where is he now?"

"In the storage facility. We have had someone with him since he appeared." Marcus replied.

Lucius nodded and then walked past Marcus without another word. He did not indicate whether Marcus should or should not follow, so the young man chose to do just that.

His Master had a long stride and it was a challenge to keep up and keep quiet, but they soon found themselves outside of the small building where the man was being held. Lucius opened it quickly, and found yet another of his slaves consistently prodding the ribs of a bound young boy with a sharpened stick.

The site was entirely disgusting at its very core. The boy who was bound looked like he could scarcely be older than seventeen, no doubt the reason for his miserable failure. His slaves had went above and beyond reasonable measure when they bound him. Ropes were lashed from ankle to knee, and his arms were twisted in such a way that his shoulders _must_ be dislocated. They were bound together behind him, again with enough rope to subdue half a dozen men.

The most puzzling part was the blood that leaked rather copiously from his lips and the pallor of his face.

"What have you done to him?" Lucius asked brusquely. The slave in his employ snickered a bit, thinking to impress his Master with his cunning.

"The little snitch had poison on him, Master. Forced it down his throat m'self!"

Lucius bristled.

"Get out," he breathed. The words were so soft Marcus wasn't sure if he heard it correctly. The tone was succinct, however. It was laden with venom and the sadistic bastard who was torturing the dying boy quavered in the realization that he had not, in fact, pleased his Master but quite the opposite. He dropped the stick, a small clattering in the otherwise silence before he turned and ran like a coward from the enclosed space.

Marcus felt as though he was observing something somehow private, not intended for his eyes. He could not, however, compel himself to move from his position. The Master did not order him away, and so he stayed.

Lucius sighed rather heavily and removed the gag from the boys mouth.

"Who sent you?" He asked simply, his voice even and cool. It lacked the malice Marcus had expected.

The criminal in question could scarcely hold his head up, and his lips formed words but his breath was so weak he could hardly propel an outward sound.

"Are you suffering? Yes, of course you are. This is how you intended to see me die, isn't it? The poison burns you alive from the inside out. That is why it feels as though you are on fire. It can sometimes take days, do you realize that, boy?" Again Lucius was speaking as calmly and nonchalantly as though he were explaining the days of the week. Marcus was beginning to feel a bit nauseous at the horrid sight of a living, decaying body. He was moved to great pity and consternation.

By now the boy was sobbing, but his lungs were not functioning well enough to keep up with the demands. He would take a wheezing, horrid breath and then sputter it out in a high pitched attempt at weeping. Blood splattered with every breath, beginning to soak the Master's cloak. Lucius brushed his hood away from his face, and Marcus could clearly see the normal portion of his face.

Was that pity etched clearly in the fine features? Sadness? Regret?

"Ah, boy…" Lucius began, oblivious to the presence of Marcus. "I am sorry for your plight. Do you wish for me to end it? Do you want peace from this agony?"

The boy nodded vehemently, and then sagged in his bonds. "P.. p….please!" He begged.

"Tell me who sent you.." Lucius demanded, his tone as soft as if he were nursing a wounded toddler.

"B.. b.. brutu…"

If this news surprised Lucius it was not evident in his face. "Brutus?" he repeated, and the man nodded again with the last of his strength.

Without another word Lucius reached up and with a single hand clasped the boy around the throat. Within a minute he was gone, released from the agony of life. Marcus throat was dry. Words failed him and still he could not move. He had just witnessed murder. Merciful death, no doubt, but his Master had just murdered another man in his presence.

Before either man could speak, however, the sound of a feminine sob pierced the silence. Both men whirled about just in time to see brilliant eyes clouded with tears, and then the owner of said orbs turned in a mass of chocolate curls to run, hand over mouth, back towards the villa. Lucius cursed beneath his breath, but returned his attention to the matter at hand. He began to unwind the bindings about the dead boy when Marcus could not contain himself any longer. Torn between chasing after Caelia and asking his burning questions, he chose the latter.

"I.. don't understand your kindness.." he breathed.

In a rare moment of honesty Lucius spoke. His melodious voice was tinged with tiredness and sorrow.

"Just a child, Marcus, caught up in a twisted and diabolical game. He had no hope of winning. He had no hope.."

Marcus could only stare as his Master continued to free the whelp and then wiped at the blood around his mouth. Anger would follow later for Lucius. For now he felt the great weight of being a murderer caught in the middle of an intrigue where innocents die. As Marcus finally turned back toward the villa, and Caelia, the soft sound of his Master singing a prayer to the gods on behalf of the boy filled his ears.


	13. Aftermath

**Thank you so much for sticking with this, after my long long delay. There is, in fact, another phantom fan in the world. She just doesn't know it yet :) I have an eight-month old princess who battles constantly against my muse and sleep. I hope to update much more frequently now, but alas - we will see!**

**Please continue to review. I love it.**

**-M**

Marcus found Caelia in her room

Marcus found Caelia in her room. She had wrapped herself tightly in a soft cloak and was curled into the corner. She wasn't making a sound, but she was rocking back and forth while crystalline tears rolled freely along her cheeks. She didn't even glance up as he entered.

"Caelia,".. he said softly, a sigh of regret that she had seen that. He walked to her quickly and dropped to her side, reaching to encircle her shoulders with one strong arm. The other began to rub the top of her arm lightly, the same way someone would to bring warmth.

"It's okay," he began speaking softly into those wild curls he loved so much. For several moments Caelia just sat there and allowed him to attempt to comfort her without any response at all.

Her mind was absolutely reeling. She could not close her eyes without seeing the image of the boy's face in the moment of his death. The moment his spirit fled and his life was ended was forever imprinted upon her mind. It hade her shudder. Though she did, in fact, feel very sorry for the man who had died it truly had little to do with him at all.

Being so close to death brought back the cold reality of her situation. She was enslaved, as well as her sister (who she would certainly never see again). Her mother and father had both died, as well as her brothers. Though she hadn't literally seen her brothers fall she could not help but imagine that their face had resembled the pitiful creature only moments before as they had died. Had they been frightened? Did they realize that all was lost in that moment? Did it happen to quickly for any contemplation? Caelia realized in the moments following the would-be-assassins death that she had not dealt with the grief of losing her family at all.

The major dagger to her heart in it all was the fact that Lucius had killed him. Seemingly so easily, as well. Her fury was already stirred at Pompey and the fact that he was family to the Master was hard to accept. Now, somehow, having seen Lucius kill made her feel as though he was responsible for her plight. For the death of her entire family, for her servitude. The quiet, pleasant moments spent surveying the glory of Rome with him or listening to him sing were locked away and replaced instead with anger and fear.

"No!" She started suddenly, taking Marcus aback for a moment. He quickly returned to cradling her against his shoulder, even as she struggled to sit up.

"It is not okay. Nothing about this is okay! He _murdered _someone!" She accused, whirling to him with her eyes wide.

"How can that be okay?" Caelia demanded.

Marcus found himself in a position he never would have imagined. He could soothe Caelia's fears by explaining that the Master had nothing to do with the poison that was killing the poor man's body slowly. He could explain that the death had been longed for by the injured party, a sweet release to unspeakable misery and that Lucius was in fact the angel of mercy for delivering the blow. He could exonerate his Master and bring a small measure of peace to the slave beside of him.

_Or…_

"It is not okay," he said softly, reaching out to take her hand and pull her back towards him.

"He is.." Marcus began, hesitating one last time before weaving his tale. ".. an assassin, Caelia. Have you not heard of the Emperor's angel of death? He kills without remorse or thought. He has no soul..It is not okay."

Caelia finally wept, collapsing into Marcus' chest where he held her tightly and stroked the length of her back in a soothing motion. He made shushing noises and attempted to keep her comfortable until she was spent.

Dishonest as he had been, Marcus could not regret withholding the truth of the situation from Caelia. He had witnessed a fond tenderness that the Master seemed to harbor for her during the trip here. He could not risk a reciprocation of that because, very soon, it would be time to collect his reward from the Master and he already had just the prize in mind.

* * *

Lucius felt very old as he washed the blood from his hands. It stained his skin and was trapped beneath his fingernails. Meticulous about his grooming, he could not rest until the last evidence of life and death was washed away.

He had never liked killing. In fact, in the beginning, it had plagued him with a great deal of guilt and remorse over each soul. But with each passing _accomplishment_ he began to feel less pain and more numbness in response. One can only regret the same action so many times before the conscience begins to wilt.

Today, however, the youth of the poor fool his ignorant slaves had poisoned (with his own tonic) had moved him. It reminded him a bit of the freshness of Caelia, and he suddenly regretted being born in Rome at all. Perhaps it would have been better to live as an outcast in any other land than to live in the lap of luxury and have to see all of the pain and misery. Or worse, to be the cause of it. He had given the boy the release of death as an act of mercy. The particular poison he had ingested was one that Lucius had seen many times before and it could take days before death was victorious. But death was _always _victorious. Instead of watching and allowing him to suffer for such a period of time, he had simply ended it.

On the confession that Brutus was implicated in this entire plot as well. The thought made the aching at Lucius' temples swell until he thought he could stand it no longer. Sleep beckoned him, much to his chagrin. The stress of the entire situation had exhausted him, as well as traveling for days without rest. He finished with the basin of cool water and dried his hands on the small towel provided by one of his slaves. He sent the lad to fetch some fresh water for drinking and then stepped into the hall.

There was one last piece of business to care for before he could allow his tired body to seek solace within his bed. The tiny cry of feminine horror had not escaped his attention. Caelia had seen him at his worst. No doubt she thought terrible things, and though instinct told him to avoid and ignore, he felt compelled to at least inquire as to her wellness.

It was nothing personal, he told himself. _Really._

* * *

He could hear the murmur of voices from outside the door. They were muffled and soft, but punctuated by light laughter. The sound was half-hearted yet still musical and sweet. It called to Lucius, and he knew without a doubt who it was. The other voice, however, he could not discern.

Without knocking, Lucius nudged the door open. It creaked on it's hinges, silencing any conversation that had been taken place within. The room's occupants froze, surprised at the intrusion. The scene he came upon caused an uncomfortable, unfamiliar feeling to coil within him.

Was it _jealousy_? Ridiculous!

Marcus was reclined casually with Caelia curled into his side. She was sitting up a bit more, but was propped against his strong shoulder so that their faces were mere inches apart. He was, apparently, doing anything to make her laugh and a sweet smile was frozen on ruby lips as her gaze shifted to the door.

To see the two so intimate together caused Lucius' blood to boil. A fresh wave of anger washed over him and he could not even speak. His fingers curled into a fist and he glared at Marcus. In a dangerous show of possession, Marcus curled his fingers into those beautiful curls and avoided Lucius' gaze altogether, leaving him no choice but to stare again at Caelia.

Their eyes met and Lucius could see all of the horror and fear in them.

"Did you tell her?" Lucius spoke gruffly, surprised at the rough intonation of his own voice.

"Yes," Marcus replied quietly, easily deceptive.

Caelia's lower lip trembled as she finally dropped her gaze, curling slender arms about her knees protectively. Marcus stroked her shoulder lightly, the gesture like daggers into his Masters heart.

"It is done," Lucius said, and didn't realize how inadequate the words sounded until they had already fallen from his lips. Why was he struggling so? He wanted to tell the girl why he had killed the boy at all. He wanted her to understand the pity he felt for him, and the fact that he had spared him a great suffering. When he looked at her, however, the fear in her eyes was his undoing and he found his words betrayed him. Instead, his simple statement made it sound as though the boy was unimportant to begin with.

Caelia's eyes widened and brimmed with fresh tears at his omission. It did, in fact, sound so callous and it simply served to confirm all that Marcus had spoken earlier.

"Caelia.." Lucius attempted one last time, but now she had turned entirely from him and was sobbing against Marcus' chest.

Lucius suddenly found himself angry that he even _cared_ what she thought. She was a slave. His slave. He owed her no explanation, and was certainly not bound by _her _moral compass. His lips thinned as he pressed them together firmly. With another glower to Marcus, he turned on his heel and left as abruptly as his came.

Marcus released a sigh of relief, and Caelia began to quiet in his arms.


End file.
